The World Becomes A Sacred Place

I have held her rich and fragrant with her seed

And felt the quickening fire in her breast,

Observed man's pavements buckled by a weed

As Spring burst through the earth as one possessed.

I have heard a hundred songs upon the air,

Humbled by the beauty of the dance,

The ritual of mating pair by pair

And joy was mine with each remembered glance.

But now I face the battle for the soul

As demon forces rise to the quench the flame

And I must empty as a beggar's bowl

All sense of self, attachment to a name.

Without the spirit all we gain is lost

Yet with it what we give retained, increased

For giving measures not the worth nor cost

But as the loaves and fishes at the feast

Multiplies the giver's gift of grace

And the soul grows by his beneficence.

Then all the world becomes a sacred place

And life regains divine significance.