A paraphrasing/re-write of the story Road to Jericho by Scrivener at Urbs Liminalis.
A body humming with the city’s dread,
days shrink to margins and murmurs.
A world of fragments, half-perceived,
a ghost drifting through wet gestures.
On cold steel, a reckoning of bone,
the tangled world falls away below.
Meeting the weight of life, welcoming it like death,
the distant galaxies, quiet as confession.
A shapeless breath, braided soft with prayer,
the current flows into the silence known.
So the heaviness learned to float,
stillness threads through the trembling puddles.
Into the vastness, mercy arrived without knocking,
healed with the strange truth of being seen.
Something uncharted unfurled inside,
a distant glimmer now whispered in the night.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
1994ever 