There is a sanctuary,
to which I turn
when other temples fail me.
Its walls, drab white.
Its furnishings,
the standard bathrom type.
But within this silent space
I find a small light
high and unwavering
that calls to me,
always calls to me,
calls me again and again.
I answer,
and look up.
I am often on my knees,
sometimes sitting against the far wall,
seeing things so far removed from this place
that the only familiarity is the sound
of my own breath -
A reminder that my life goes on.
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