Are in touch with the holy
The
sober sacred still
Ideas
that went
Nowhere
Even
the objected ones
Who
are only private
Sparks
of a flame
Half-spoken
plans obliged
Out of
blond enclosure
Lost
and forgotten
Skeptical
prophecy considered
Fascinating
by a second
Breath
Even
the dust and the dirt
Dried
up alongside
A
tangle of weeds
Deserves
the full
Touch
of the divine crisis
Events
and gaunt heavenly
Dawn
in desperate
Need
are no longer aware
Of
their holiness lost
And
forgotten and
Sacred
all the same.
