Listen For The Beloved

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Listen for the Beloved.
The walls fall down.
Listen for the Beloved.
The Stories wither to dust.

Listen for the Beloved.
The crockery dances in the cupboards.
Listen for the Beloved.
The masters obey their animals.

Empty your pockets.
You do not live in a tiny tent,
solitary in your pea pod warmth
by a dwindling fire.

No, your tent is the sky.
And that lump in your throat
is not gold.
Neither is it coal.
It is not even yours.

Set free the herd
chained to your doorstep.
Set free the millers,
chained to their wheels.

There is water aplenty
overflowing the cup
of the Beloved.
Drink by her soul hand.

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