Inside the
temple
the old songs are made
new
old journeys
retraced
old wounds
old wrongs
old values
surrendered - at last partly
subsumed in the baying
of ram's horn and
te healing balm of
belief
old laws
old rituals
old stars
align
like Giza's 12
cornerstones
offering silent
intercession
and
the warm
wet fellowship of familial
kisses - even on walls
brother sister uncle father
mother
carrying the line like a
testament like a new
harvest
same crop from new
seeds
sown in trial now
reaped in tears of triumph
sadness turned straightaway to
joy
like the smiles
on the faces
of cavorting girls and boys as
they skip over
the gravestones
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