The Great One Has No Form
Alone in a room that is ready for
something new. It is time
for the nameless spirit to surprise me
Even without the anticipation of
magic, my eyes feel like smoke,
A book in my hands with a laughing
saint on the first page invites me to
celebrate perfect timing. Grace
pushes my chest open.
A feeling of familiarity exposes a
life he has been waiting for. Curtains draw.
Tears begin to touch the
I look up, but cannot see him,
the one who brought me back to
The great one has no form, but
his presence is felt.