Mar 13
across our paths lie logs to hurtle
a desert path forks left and right
fear’s the chasm, a pit, or a boulder
trips neighbors like falling dominoes

reveals a snare or the mountaintop
don’t fall; fire separates the ores’ dross
and gold, folks holding the Father’s hand
receive tomorrow’s crown and scepter
2018 © Christos Victor, All rights reserved
Christos Victor
Written by
Christos Victor
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