Here's another one. Some mystic poetry that really needs critique. Thanks!
Enter the North Woods. Sing to blue jays alone.
They cackle. Do not assume you praise alone.
Pilgrims, my soul grows blisters with yours. Give thanks
the sun provides shade. Do not curse the sun’s rays alone.
The Lord is a labyrinth hedge. Should I sit on this rock
and ache for a guide, or enter this maze alone?
We must become a communion of saints.
A soul is a country. With out allies, it decays alone.
Oh Lord, let the wind eat my flesh. Let it gnaw through my bones.
When my body is dust, I give thanks with what sways alone.
Your sin is a cathedral of corpses. This, too, will fall.
Have faith in Christ. This is not yours to raze alone.
Remember, Shadrack, Mishack
and Abendigo did not enter the blaze alone.
The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want
for a flock. The faithful never graze alone.
I am the instrument of the Lord. Hear my melody
and chime in. Truly, no horn or harp plays alone.
The prophet whispers to cigarette smoke and cinderblocks
and still Al-Aleem hears the voice that prays alone.