Wednesday, March 3, 2010


Constant humming rings from the west
Brimming a constant melody
Night falls and stars dot, telling us
Tall grasses and fields of wide lengths
Open, it is nature we seek

When lit, we stumble as truth peeks
A mark or period of date
Where in the deck lies the right match
The humdrum is constant, the ring
Absence of mind and purity

Still and simple, not a gesture
Sleep for now and rest up for it
It is it, it is what it is
It always is constant, you see

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