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'The Place of Prayer' by May Crowther



This is the place of prayer
Here, where the inward-pointing nails converge.
The ever-narrowing gate
when the world of time and space
yields up its measured form.

Here in the needle's eye
Dark upon dark.
The aching, echoing void
of the hollowed heart
suspended
at the point of change.

Unknowing
[and that is the agony]
bearing the unknown
to the mystery
at the place of prayer.
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