Meadowsweet all battered

Pond Song 3.54

 

Openness such that it seems there is nothing there, but the nothing is the silence into which the fulness of the reserved divinity is worded.  G&B 274

 

meadowsweet all battered__old oak branches hang broken

that microburst hit home__crazy words stick once spoken

 

the pond almost empty__not a pond really a pool

child of sea and moon__a gull takes short steps to feel

 

good stuff on the bottom__the Sabbath silence sings

neighborhood crows and sparrows__the way a boy’s bat pings

 

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