Silver Wonder

IN the growing silence of the day

A silver wonder glows,

A nucleus, born from the circling clay,

Of light like a strange rose.

In my fathomless abyss it brings

A moments bright relief

As if some heaven-descended wings

Had own over this brief

Existence leaving but a trace

Of their miraculous ight

Upon the clustered memories

Of the branching tree of night.

My burdened heart becomes a song

Drunk with the wine of sleep

Poured from the bodiless
re-throng

In caves of a luminous deep.

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