Sacred places
Swallow our individuality
With swiftness,
Shredding egos
Without the sounds of
Ripping paper,
And set us with ourselves,
An inkling
In the presence of grandeur,
Letting us be.
Sacred places,
Simple stations
Situated in our routine survival,
Anchor us,
Assuredly understanding
That we are and aren't
So much more,
If only when time seems
To cease on a Sunday am;
We are still here.
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