Night of Nights 10/09/25

Old Lessons

Look not for angelic choirs

When I am borne on mountain winds.

Stretch not your palms to seek me,

for hands reach beside you.

Wail not at images graven of a face they have not seen,

choking the halls of houses I have never claimed.

Step out in streets of man and address yourself to the hand that claims the rod,

see not my vengeance but the actions of those who claim my name,

and correct them.