On hard unyielding benches
Like stone mastabas
We proclaimed peace
In four directions;
Purified the circle
With air, fire, water, earth;
Invoked protection,
Understanding, strength,
Knowledge, justice, love,
Earth our Mother,
All goodness.
This fed our spirits;
This was true;
This was holy.
But holier by far
Were three ant lion cones,
Two children,
And a single feather.
©2014 John I. Blair
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