5.23.2011

The Blessing of the Entrance

it is addressed thusly:
A song.
it reads:
My hand finds the doorknob and I think
We live in exile, in this place
As in a desert, with naught to drink
We, the latter human race;
The one embraced our mis'rable state
As though our lot weren't lacking
The other impatient, could not wait
All things most glad attacking;
"No house as this is truly home
Nor is ours truly other
We will know when it is gone
This earth which is our mother;
As the line of good and ill
Lies within the heart
So the wicked or good will
May be its greatest part;
In the bringing exiles home
If be in this dwelling
That in heart they no more roam
With these verses telling."

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