Thursday, September 29, 2011

march 13

how lucky we are
sitting here,
to birds fold their wings
to the fountain,
ever renewing itself,
over traffic
planes, cars, trains,
to voices on the wind,
while sky unfolds
her cloudy robes,
striking me dumb
with her inner splendor, now
she is the inside of an oyster shell,
the inside of a pearl.

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