14 October 2010


1401
What sanctity is not hollow
That is not a stone to itself,
Without self-sense?
What tolls within the city square
Without an hour's intent,
But an ear that hears no summons?
What hangs upon a wall
Unparented by art,
But a hand to blankness by compulsion bent?
The many blind have consecration;
The one unseen, consummation.