Thought I saw, at the days start,
a door open in an oak tree—
a vertical slit, a magical port—
a figure stood there,
then disappeared—
I could neither follow
nor lie about the journey.
See how the light fills chamber and halls
in the woods here?
The suggestion makes a church,
narthex, nave, a place
for worship if you trust
where your eyes
take you, up and up.
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