Thursday, February 17, 2011

In The Vault of the Canterbury

Who gives me this joy?
Is it you, most precious presence?
As I stood where ancient kings
are asleep? I felt such pressures
flowing from the deep.
The tombs about me swelled.
A breathing of a rare kind I felt
in my mind.  As I passed by
with both hands on the coverings of bronze.
Each one I felt, responded.
This joy came to me as I wandered by.

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