Raymond A. Foss Poems

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The ground yielding its stones
buried under the soil
the rich loam, the grassy lawns
the forests, the brush
hidden from view, sneaking out
sometimes sitting free
giving to my spade, my will
stones, rocks from the earth
gathering them all,
to frame the walls of the prayers
this sanctuary,
this place of peace


August 5, 2009
Ecclesiastes 3:5
building prayer labyrinth
in our yard

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