Unenclosed - Poem by Smoky Hoss
Passing through time,
Outside of the mind.
The door has a frame,
The house a roof;
Man craves description as purest proof -
At the core of it all: desire wondering...
does God have a name?
So go out, to the ends of the earth,
Pull the nails, and pick the locks -
With words travelled well, find...
God was never in the box.
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