Yes against all Odds

Heart hand n mouth

A futile No rises to all that is Yes

When the battered down starves

The slow climb back to the good self


Such thirst for that dried cracked tongue

That has let silence erode life’s sweetness

Drained the landscape of the self, desert dry


If only the clouds could burst from

Eyes that lost their tears long ago

Despair took all the wet hope of Yes away


The river is not that far of a crawl

Let that last stir of Yes stand you tall

And run naked from the barren hostile


Of your doubt and terror that holds you

Hostage, make the relent a heart’s truth

Lay your Yes against fear’s hard No


Rises to the Yes that has always marked

The Champions highest quest

To the Grail that’s never been


Further away than right here

Close to the soul’s truth and

The promise of every moment

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Filed under A pligrams journey, Abbey of the arts., ANN ARBOR, ASCENSION, MICHIGAN POET, The soul knows

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