In Search of the Miraculous

 I was in search of it too. Not in Europe or India or anywhere below the seven spheres. Escape from the labyrinth of contradictions, leaving Philadelphia at the beginning of this journey was no road, but there was a way peril with blessing walked, their hands knit. While Mark Leon when to India, Karl Hillie to Dorethea Dix in the mix, I walked past the dragon reeds, to Glastonbury, up the Tor, into the Snowden mountains from the Puntarenas shore, took strides, made music and sounded up these accounts to tell. Don't tell. You can go where you want. Don't tell the miracles, come.