The Consecration

Slowing down,
this was once my reverie.
Pensiveness soon to became my reality.
Life measured by minutes; no longer by the years.
I knew myself before you; I
in an agenda.
I was lost at sea. Currents of thoughts carried me away;
exile arrived shortly after; channeling me back to
our hearth.
Disease at our front door; war looking in our windows.
Our shelter,
our sanctuary
hope holding up these walls.

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