Aug 122011
Convalescent thoughts 
At daybreak's dawnwalk, 
Go round the satellite mind, 
Centerpoint incarnate, 

As moons go round their Jupiter,
Pearl-luminescent nexus 
Tilting stilts. 

The air in the park is clear and crisp.

Moonshine or dayshine, 
A motioning round
Round and round goes
As goes its rounds.

So just what is it, really, about Reality,
This clear clave 
And garrulous guiro gone round, that, 
Questioning it, creates it?

…Oracular words dissolve the uttering tongue…

This is but an example, 
Periplum polaroid,
An instance of a notion perplexly drawn
In irreverent wind,

A mobile mote let down
From Plato's pinkening statuary,
Drifting whichwise 
Through infinity.

The air in the park
Goes round and round.

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