I see an inner court,
Off in hidden, distant shores.
There’s a Lion beckoning my name.
It’s the place where time is standing still,
And power is not contained.
It’s the center of a guided will,
Marked out with threaded souls.
Where She Who Lives is beautiful
And fullness is made whole.
I open gates of authority,
To find markers of the Truth.
Deep is calling unto deep;
It’s Life, not what I do.
The Mighty-Maned, Big Lion-Man,
Greets me by a river.
He nudges me to jump on in:
“Become My refreshing shiver!”
I reside to make a living here,
But not to earn my keep.
The Shores of Peace—My Inheritance—
Is given when I seek.
