Nameless

 

Nameless, finding the

Only altar’s endless stairs

And facing forever.

Evermore we diminish,

Gliding into tomorrow,

Polishing rocks and just

Scattering the hot dust.

Fountain of green weeds

Of our eternal earth

Wither no crimson blood,

But cry droplets dry.

We meander weak, feeble,

Burnt feet thereabouts,

To yonder thrashing hilltop,

Mound of making buds,

Worshipping the bent streaks

Of thunder; we twiddle

Thumbs, waiting for rain,

Then bask in it gleefully

 

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saiom's picture

 I was thinking how few

 

I was thinking how few people would take the time and trouble

you took in bringing the avocado trees out and then in..

how few people are sensitive to every being.. from divinity to each tree