the stronghold
is a brook
that babbles inside our selves
and clumsily
in this place
words become worlds
yes, we can finally see your face
(Our Face)
and though father
and mother do not look upon us
and the marching enemies of time
quiet
and restraint
try to hold us
our walls do breach
the water within
softens the rock
flings opens the Tent
and out of each of us
wide mouthed
seeking
the courage to unlevel the path
suddenly and steadily comes
