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We are not trodding out along some horizontal
plain, searching for an abandoned house
to die in, alone. Ladders are everywhere
angels ascending and descending
A sacred geography, the cross
with a heart at the center.

Why do we keep searching
for the one more beautiful
than all the others, to be desired
above the rest,
the One whose name is Beauty?

If not, we might as well see the road
but not the sky, crawl on our bellies
and not walk upright
watch the light go its separate way
at the end of the day
and we to our fitful sleep.

Find this One,
Let this One find you,
And even the darkness will
be luminous.

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