/November sun gleams near the horizon.
/Jay preens her azure wing.
/Earthworm noses deeper into the root bed.
/What remains but worship?
/
/Surrender this morning. Forsake slumber.
/O great and non-existing God,
/Thou wraith of wind, without substance,
/O silent voice that whispers everything,
/
/Including me.
/Outside time, outside space, inside all,
/Including me.
/Small, shrinking, my heart in shambles,
/
/I know nothing but you.
/Everywhere I look,
/I find nothing but you.
/Each star and creature
/
/Trembles with your sweet immortal poetry.
/To listen is to awaken.
Tweet
At the ethereal ball
of all vibrations
the chance brings together
sounds, and glimmers, and rough waves
and sometimes chance sprawls
consumed in a puddle,
leaving the waves dancing
along the string
of resonance
to clay out
a new piece of matter
to drop down
on this old crust of the Earth…
Trabel–
Thank you for sharing your lovely poem.
–Will