postmodern

postmodern

Saturday, February 20, 2010

The grass blissfully sings

I worship the broken life-lines
The smoke of proud passing beauty
The glory of stoic leafless trees
Foolishly laughed at in plain sight

O holy song of evening breath
Wake my face from stony sleep
Fly me to the wintry mountains
All creatures are but fragile glass

Our infant wings stir the quiet
While the grass  blissfully sings
Hymns of weeping at noontime
Drowning in the flood of light

That's when worlds innumerable
Rising, spread fire air-ward
Faint lights on the valley floor
Universal man, leaping for joy

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