Thursday, September 3, 2015

A POET'S DISTILLATION

Listen from my eyelids
on a somnambulist sleep

Hear over my voice
in the harmony of woodwinds

Cry over the long suffering
in the hands of the innocent

Circle around me
in a primordial shadow

Whisper for the unpersuadable
who vanquish all powers

Expect a genesis of birth
to flower in small rooms of color

Know revelation is transformed
in the shape of a lion and dove

Respect the woods and sea
alive with rejoicing

Think on a sky of mystery
in the pure poem of the spirit.


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