And The Walls Came A'crumblin Down

The container in which
each one holds
the world's story is expansive.

The walls of this
holding place are more
pliable than one imagines.

How much life,
with the accompanying
joy and pain, is held there

depends on what each
has learned when letting
go again and again

of the illusion
that the walls exist
in the first place.

The wonder of a poem
lies in the capacity to speak
of such impossible realities

such as camels slipping
effortlessly through
A needle's eye.

Or two men from
two lands becoming
born again as brothers.

Born not of the flesh
but of the Spirit not from
below but from above.

Or what we thought were
formidable walls of hostility
crumbling so thoroughly

that like Jericho future
archeologists who search
for remnants of former societies

will debate amidst the
dust as to wether such
walls every really existed.