The thought of a sacred word

Is a city on a shining hill,

A citadel

Of love and compassion,

Brothers and sisters

In pure mission for the human condition to improve,

In love and care for one another.

The thought of a sacred word,

We chant the rhythm, first, in unison,

And then, in eclectic harmony,

Until the word is a symphony 

Of complex sentences that rise up

On the sea of human consciousness.

We think the sacred word in peace

And hum

The mystic tune placed in our own breasts

So long ago,

So here and now,

And the lines disappear again.

We regain our majesty

In the privacy of the all in all,

The mantra, the mind,

The very thought

Of the sacred word.

-jenn