In a trance he walked white-robed towards the ascending sun,
such peace in holding onto nothing.
The unfathomed gorge drew him fascinated by its depth,
a cooling chasm of untold secrets.

Many miles hence a bustling city lay at the edge of the desert.
Here, the scorching sun bleached the cracked ground
that embraced the inland sea buoyant with salt.
Souls dedicated to God had found solace living here.

The silence enveloped this isolated world,
and day or night one might hear its still, small voice.
Caverns in the high dry cliffs were places of refuge,
enigmatic passages to sit and be.

This is where the word had come forth,
spoken in ancient days and reborn from the past.
Now broken fragments of scrolls are all that is left
and only the silence remains.

The wilderness beyond the mystic canyons
called him through softly spoken wind and sand.
It was long ago.
Awakening, he remembered.

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