IN THE WOMB OF STONE

by Charles Carreon

When the sacramental gong
strikes,
emptiness ...

Look!
Stranger over the horizon,
standing lone by elbow rock --
Comes to make an offering
at the cave.

Dark now,
in the cave,
hidden within the thighs
of the mountains.

A thousand rainbows,
flooding all horizons,
Angels sending and descending,
All waters pure as crystal,
All skies ineffably bright.

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