Pursuing the Spirit


There in the broken lot.

Hunched, but, young.

A walking prosthetic.

Beautiful, nonetheless.

In comparison,

my renewal…nothing short of pathetic.

As I began to surmise, down a cobbled street.

The reckoning…would not shake me free.

Would I remain a pursuer of spirituality?

With the mystery of the mystics…forever ahead of me!

 

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