Were I to say

“I will find God!” and

make way to some airy consciousness

of being held together,

the cells of my body

held together

each in its place

by some considerable design

of what a man like me

would be.

Held together

in a world like this

by the source

of myself, and water, and wolves.

Where would I begin?

First, with being found

having never been lost

but to myself

and then,

to rest from all my “finding”

in the mystery

of being



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