The Peregrin

No jesses now. No band of fear to bind

The broken will unwillingly

To that which, decaying,

Cannot kindle joy from grief.

No hood to hide the heart in false humility,

No bell to tell the tyrant time

Where soars the silently-singing soul

To seek its Source and end.

No lure but longing to lead the human home

To where humanity finds its fullness,

Where the mighty hand of mercy

Waits to heal the wanderer’s weary wings

With wounds of deepest love!

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