how so the moss grows
on the shelter of flint rock’d
in an avalanche
of missive starlight
evermore within sunrise
a wide mist knowing
wherever the wind
lift an echo to a song
on & on & on
I must be going
Poetry
how so the moss grows
on the shelter of flint rock’d
in an avalanche
of missive starlight
evermore within sunrise
a wide mist knowing
wherever the wind
lift an echo to a song
on & on & on
I must be going
gorgeous
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This word of yours…I shall remember. Thank you.
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A piece of star.>KB
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I always wonder, Dear KB, perhaps you know:
what is the constellation we are in?
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It doesn’t ‘belong’ to any constellation. Rather, it passes through various ones through the year, all belonging to the celestial zodiac.>KB
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Perhaps, although from here only partly true
and heliocentric…Galileo
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I thought of that a little while ago, but too late to be glib.KB
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Patience does not hold the status quo, it regards Change
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Touches a fragment of the numinous.
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Thank you, William…the seeker finds that on the way.
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