Monday, March 31, 2014

He who measures out the irregular power

He who measures out the irregular power
of syllables stretched across thin paper
can't help but fumble with confused answers.
The tired tree, the purple-opening flower,
the gentle breeze declaring quiet showers,
the aware clouds moving delicately over
the dust reveal the inscrutable keeper.
She whose eyes glint like coarse copper
trapped in a crude form shifts to temper
his artless body with a noble whisper.
The trees shake, the simple flowers shiver,
and the river embodies an unbeliever.
As a light stirs, his low faith may waver,
he may doubt the conviction of his lover,
or the justice of the ultimate lawgiver.
But beyond the trials, the toils, the fevers,
beyond the miserable abiding hangover
he finds within her gaze a light uncovered,
a person who will decisively deliver
the resolution of his shattered prayer.

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