We Go Out From Our Closed Doors
we go out from our closed doors
we watch
from their windows
not just a dropp of rain
a frozen fern
a haggard stone
a cloud of doubt
an iron curtain
a broken tendon
a very thin man
a hard pair of gloves
we shall see birds of the same feathers
men of character
women of passion
flowing rivers
wide mouth of the seas
we shall see a choir of angels
we shall see the face of God
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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