Sunday, September 28, 1997

One Heart

beautiful, beautiful
the winnowing wind like a shadow
that splits the churning sea, no thing yet
cutting across
some primeval dark empty page
suddenly, mysteriously
circling around
what dream waits, watching
within a heart such as ours
even now, soundlessly blowing
the taste of music endlessly through it
coloring some gentle rhythm
with wellbeing
casting pure brilliance
into creatures of the night eternal

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