Innerdialects

It sits cautious. Unwelcome, afraid to upset our tempers: Harmony.

memoir of field song, forest sepal, petal of the sun: harmony you

Poet in the wilds

I’d play you a harp of chords, right here in this Earth-season ripe – for pain. Harmony

I’d create you, like a long awaited child,

stash you in shelves, in the castles in our minds

you Reminder of why there’s an earthful of Beauty waiting for homes – that I’d do, not just in a season here, but each day of This, I –

‘d have you in the doorways, the pillar post gateway windows of Life.

If there were guarantees for wellness, or not, I’d tear you out of wilderness and wild path streams,

your pure sweet halo of peace,

yea in the doorways, the pillar post gateway windows of Life: Harmony – the indefatigable Circle of Light