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somewhereI

how often
now
the spirit bows
in reverence to the past
blessings come
immortal into bloom
colors nearly
faded –
by presence
so divine
the garden
of forgiveness
is guarded by the moon

lily sweet
and crimson pale –
sunset of the soul
prayers to trade
– another
one more day
further than we meant to go
a light beyond
the light
dreams are freed
from sleeping –
wishing us away

. . .