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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353467" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Purity</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353467" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">In the dark tabernacle, <br>a shaft of sunlight<br>illumines the heart<br>and shines through<br>a million years of dust.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353467" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Clouds and clouds of swirling<br>dust<br>spiralling<br>through the light<br>which spills in a golden pool<br>on damp, grey stone and iron rust.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353467" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">When the light moves<br>it does not take the dust there to it.<br>When the dust slides into darkness, <br>the light does not pursue it.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=353467" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Why then does the heart invent<br>heart bruising burdens to shoulder? <br>(Why does the heart consent<br>to the illusion of growing older?)</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Brian+Taylor">Brian Taylor</a></strong></div>

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