81 (thou art a glimmer of)


THOU ART A glimmer of gold from the dawn on my life's shore,

a dew-drop on the first white flower of autumn.

Thou art a rainbow from the distant sky

bending o'er the dust,

a dream of the crescent moon

touched with a white cloud,

thou art a secret of paradise

revealed by chance to the earth.

Thou art my poet's vision,

appearing from the days

of my forgotten birth,

thou art the word that is never for utterance,

a freedom that comes in the form of a bondage,

for thou openest the door for me

to the beauty of a living light.

 

 

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