Thursday, May 06, 2010

Pages. Grew.

On the foliage, grew from great wisdom.
The tiptoe of a cat on forest water;
Blue boats shimmering in the sea.
Grief stricken, the man rowed to shore;
The salad was taken out,
Put back on a plate,
And surrendered again to the infinite.
The thinking sometimes takes
Many times to go over and over,
Without and within.
The period of everlastingness
Is not without seasons
That tiptoe through different seasons,
Different times,
Things that are different.
I experience things in your grief.
You experience things in mine.
The minotaur raises its claws
In surrender;
The wind refuses to shine.
His eyes are brown.
Brown as other worlds.
The other worlds tiptoe over
Other great things.
The greatness is vast.
It is all vast.
The vastness in it is rage-
The rage fills the page.

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