HOLINESS
Today this is A barbed and wounding word Seated angular and cold On a shelf way out of reach However tall the ladder A comparative word Commanding from the heights With lists that rule out hope or desire But that we still conspire to use Against each other We brush dirt from our shoulder Onto the next soul’s arm Knowing that we cannot rise Beyond our definitions We sit within them Who will convert this word of ours Restore its heart? Turn it around, burnish its corners Until it finds itself again? The thing of beauty That bends to mend wounds Irrigate dry bones Blow the dust From inner houses And sanctimony From our souls
Mud at the wall 
Stunning. Thank you. Pippa. X
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WOW Mary – really made me think. How much this word has been sent to the scrap heap where so called ‘antiquated’ words get dumped. Truly we must ask, -‘Who will convert this word of ours?’