August 4, 2014
A mockingbird morning and all the world a song. I wake to the cardinal and his joyous call, The hawk in a pinpoint sky calls loud and long, Such beauty here, how can we hold it all?
The iris bear their crowns of victory As I walk among the roses deep in prayer And breathe the fragrance of the peony And taste the sweetness of the morning air.
A day will come when beauty on earth shall reign And we who wander here still robed in night Shall wake to Truth and know ourselves again And walk most consciously the paths of light.
Poems Undated (1727)
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