Sanctuary

Sanctuary is where the

Thoughts rest still amid

The whirlwind blowing,

The shrieking bull crying

And the fuss and the mess

And the din.

It's a place always sought

After, rarely ever found

Amidst the questing and the

Seeking the idle headling

Roaming over the land

As it will in its day.

Oft a mirage in the distance,

Sometimes further, sometimes

Nearer, or it hears that it

Will that which you will.

It would green and lush and

Pretty, though it usually just

A sitting in the corner while

The thers take their fill.

And it's sitting and it's watching,

Wasting and dim waiting for

Some more to come to tap

The cups of silence.

Yet it's fleeting,

Never lasting,

True to life in

It's skeeting moment.

True to living in

The fullness of a

Truth.