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On Polkinghorn;The Tsunami and the Soul

Deep, deep, under the
river of cold mud lies a shining soul.
God did not order the awful slide,
but knows it's there; His sweep is wide.
...nor is the weeping hidden from Him
The shining cannot be gathered
by me as I the sunlight capture.
All is my Right, His perogative,
and the soul's rapture deep in the mud...

An early morning listener