Friday, August 8, 2014

Late July

This is all there is to making
Sense:
I walk out the back
Door
And I smell the lilies from the far
Back barn beds
And walking towards
The heady pull of
Life we don't script
We just hope and wait
I feel the expanding universe
Come to meet me,
I set my wine on the stone
Walls with
Lilies cloaking my shoulders
I look at the colors of the
Perfect world
And despite the truth I know
The balance blooms and
I am calm,
Replenished for the struggle.

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