Saturday, April 21, 2012


Breath of spirit in every thing
Burn through the imponderable less likely than lavish
Extravagance flowing flush through the branches brimming
And ever lasting fleeing and flowering out past the shores of unlikely
Hair and eyes and arms and face, brush and brim and bramble on spontaneous
Flies and flailing followed chances, run through and on past loud last waking tides of
Heather met romances wished for suffering human abrupt away expression
Some are meant to sing their way through life and some are meant to
Give to every man according to his ways the breath of spirit
Flowing flush until and through the stalks and maiden
Fleeing fair enhances summer spring
Romances, at every moment inspiration fills the common scuttling
Honey bees with jets of works that vanish by the next, delighted
To be on to something otherwise decreed and promise
Waiting to transpire; honor it is and pressed magnificence how
Full of force and wilderness the animals and tables and stone-built
Dwellings all the same are flush and full with spirit filling them up blowing
In amongst and through them lifting them out of the ideal realm of
Kingdom come and into the beaten pounded pummeled world of
Black skylight empty and tangible hard-won working
Things all hammered about poured forth risen and ascended.

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