03 October 2007

absent all brilliance

a sort of music underlies our hope
we do not have to drag it very far
our actions won't its quiet beauty mar
nor will it play out to the end our rope
there's not an echo nor another trope
we are not guided by a glinting star
yet to safe harbour there is never bar
while highest mountain has a gentle slope
a moment in between the sky and sea
too soon for sunset and still far from dark
we hear the sounds that indicate our home
there's stretching shadow of familiar tree
the open field becomes a kind of park
tomorrow will have time enough to roam

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