Entry tags:
what can be expected
things come together
not with sudden noisy force
but slow and silent
the darkest morning
is still busy and fervent
with rushing workers
the turning earth hides
the sun from sight but cannot
truly dim its light
things come together
not with sudden noisy force
but slow and silent
the darkest morning
is still busy and fervent
with rushing workers
the turning earth hides
the sun from sight but cannot
truly dim its light
with just a view of trees and birds and light
we can construct the frame of paradise
that will withstand even the longest night
we must make sure that we can do things right
the limits of mortality we will despise
with just a view of trees and birds and light
we know right here and now the bright
days of this mild winter are not mere lies
that will withstand even the longest night
the sunshine on the wall seems to requite
the pain and suffering that upset our eyes
with just a view of trees and birds and light
defiant leaves with fresh colour will ignite
winter it seems has donned a new disguise
that will withstand even the longest night
in this mild weather we all take delight
nature we know has given us a prize
with just a view of trees and birds and light
that will withstand even the longest night
shadow on the wall
a flying ship caught mid-air
creeping upward flight
through the trees blue sky
clarity of winter light
yet warm is the day
another country
speaking over internet
time's perfection
the words that give life meaning are not long
the vocables of normal congress all quite short
words such as hope or peace or of a meaner sort
like hate or fight all measure well for song
or make things clear words like right or wrong
are perfect and direct we accept the report
and judgments given gravely in life's court
cannot include only those which are strong
but must allow each carefully to speak
of those things which we all know will matter
before the dimming of each little fire
none but the soft the yielding and the weak
can bend in time always the mighty shatter
and all the time we listen for the lyre