And when,
that evening at summer’s end,
on the sun-warmed stone of the church steps,
you spoke of the rooms within rooms in inner silence,
your words pressed Kingdom shapes on my vague suspicions.
And when,
that evening at summer’s end,
on the sun-warmed stone of the church steps,
you spoke of the rooms within rooms in inner silence,
your words pressed Kingdom shapes on my vague suspicions.
