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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: another nightdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: blackbird
    ASL Info:    31/male/reykjavik iceland
    Elite Ratio:    2.35 - 194/328/300
    Words: 197
    Class/Type: Prose/Misc
    Total Views: 403
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1189



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    dotsanother nightdots
    -------------------------------------------


    and reserve held back out of pride
    brings a misery to the stones no shadow
    of the day can cast
    for it is of the mind

    its creeping before death that spurs
    an anxious hoarding
    fear not the flight of the sparrow
    or the howling of the wolf

    the open wound of the night can be healed
    in the trusting heart
    give over to the love of the moon
    the face of the lonely beggar
    the tripping walk of the vagrant child
    the deep knot of the hundred year oak

    live careless in the day
    spendthrift of the soul that gives itself away
    who would strive for sainthood in the shade
    when speaking the glories of the wood
    and fields can do no better
    lest it were starving children one would feed

    inside the mind there is a halo of itself
    the miracle is the reality of its light
    one does not bask alone in such heaven
    one needs to spread love like leaven

    thus the birds and bees
    the brooks and gleaves
    there is no bounty that does not please
    the warm blood of hands in tender mercy held




    Submitted on 2007-03-29 02:42:22     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      purity of mind my dear you slay me, if i am the dragon then it is your lance that pierces my heart. this piece moves me.

    "thus the birds and bees
    the brooks and gleaves
    there is no bounty that does not please
    the warm blood of hands in tender mercy held"

    all encoumancing and yet close to home, the simplicity that we have become blind to

    "the open wound of the night can be healed
    in the trusting heart
    give over to the love of the moon
    the face of the lonely beggar
    the tripping walk of the vagrant child
    the deep knot of the hundred year oak"

    that's probably my favorite verse. thse first 2 lines ... wow
    | Posted on 2007-03-31 00:00:00 | by in shadow | [ Reply to This ]


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