Hospital of the Soul

“The fear of God is the beginning of Wisdom.”

They say it like the hammer strikes the nail.

They forget their force and ruin the wood.

Later, they'll have a bonfire and curse the burning

boards to fate Divine.

And when they return to their homes,

and their beds are full with form and sleep,

and all the pinhole points in the celestial

curtain peep through to glimpse

the natural and temporary world,

Withered smoke will rise from the ashes,

look to heaven, and begin its serpent dance

into the night,

Worshiping in the temple made

without hands,

where conviction gives

way to convalescence,

remembering the humble spirit

is not despised.