Eyes made rain in mossy woods
grey with ancientness of purpose.

Love’s reach, like drops on polished glass,
rushed down before those who speak their mind -
Unworthy of reflection - falling.

Love’s reach like stream to wave,
Yearning stretch of drying roots,
Or desert cactus fat from former rains.

Water's flow, waters flow
Many waters flowing
Dirt from ocean sand dollars,
A starfish donning night's blanket,
And moonlight on the whale's back.

Beach unfurled, sandy tendril,
Uncrossed boundary, willful water,
Dawn alone calls ocean forth -
Resurrection's sweet caress.
Composed February 26-27, 2004 and June 1, 2004 by Mark Feezell /
Edited and Dedicated to the Public Domain (CC0 1.0) 2024

Download as an RTF file.

Image: Moss on Tree Branch (DSC05002)

poetry, uncollected

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