Beyond the Stare of Tiger, Peace

 

 

Lichen licked twigs,

mossy sticks and crumbled

leaves, the debris of the divine.

 

Light the fire within the cauldron.

Clouds of prophecy tumble skyward.

The pantheon is near.

 

Your are your own guru.

Unseen Helpers exceed

all timelines of collective space.

 

Any time of year, any day,

let the water spirits cleanse

your morning, carry stones of the earth.

 

There is no place that is not sacred.

C.J. Prince

©2016