Wednesday 31 October 2012


It feels like a scene 
From a movie

Drinking tea
From china cups
Among the exotic
In a faded place

The air hot and heavy
The smell of sulphur

A terrible tormenta
Spanish for storm
Is raging

Unleashing hail

The blackest sky

Uprooting ancient
Trees blowing the roof
Off a shanty church

What an authentic
Pentecost might do

With scant regard
For our attachments

The sacred icons
By which we are
Connected to the Divine

Snatched from our grasp
So that we have nothing
To hold

Us back from surrender
To that which we cannot

(San Antonio De Areco,Argentina)

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