We are perched, walking on the edge
of an errant planet,
off-kilter and dizzy
wobbling off course
in its orbit
straying from the straight and narrow
the true path
following baser needs
and primal urges
shielding eyes from the glare
the stark light exposed
of the echo, the memory
the Word made flesh
the last truth
denied then too
4/27/06 8:50pm
title drafted 3/15/06 during Disciple I class
(Raymond A. Foss)
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