slow, steady procession
Music fills the space, as
eyes watch with hope
fulfilled, at last.
Yet, I am not on the dais,
nor do I lead the march.
I sit. Empty chair left, right.
Eyes forward, deep sigh.
Petals fall at random.
Glance down to hand, no gold
to mark the distinction
from other to another.
Oh well, the birds fed
the lilies clothed,
Thy kingdom come.
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