You can’t hide your hideway

when beggars come calling;

every haven has its day,

every port and refuge;

the cold tomorrows

come out of the distance

like icebergs,

unstable as emperors,

demanding as children

and food for thought

feeds no one.

Your secret place, your kingly manse?

Don’t board up all the doors,

your earthly paradise

has a few snakes inside

and minstrels and other rabble

wait outside

to knock down all.

You alone unhidden

unbidden stand

prominent as a sequoia,

Simon of the stele.

Revelation is God’s alone;

hidden in the deep,

his submarine love

discovers all secret places;

you are naked as

a jaybird in his sight.

So cast it all away,

armed in your own flesh

go voyaging.

Surrender is a place

impregnable and portable

as heaven.