I write to bring the lazy clouds within
the reach of tongues, to give the tall trees
breath, to reveal the mystery of a bayou
or gulf extending quietly to the ocean.
I write to give the heavens a vehicle
for their glory, to bring the mountain down
to the height of a child, to represent
the infinite love that I can't understand.
I chant these high things despite the trials
man has always known, with the knowledge
every utterance will be an awful failure.
But how am I to spend the oblivious days
enamored with the library of existence
if not by giving voice to the unseen?
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