Three pyramids of lilac flower
retire from space and empty time
to be idea and so dower
a scented presence upon rhyme.
Like vowels that enrich our dark
with glints of semi precious dye
Their pointed music prints its mark
On other senses than the eye.
Staggered parabola of bush
and bent attention ply out there
to pluck from memory and crush
bruised stems into a vase of air.
An arc that touches ports of call
the mind can scarcely comprehend
sails the line furling to no fall
a charted journey without end.
cover the page as on that night
when word stilled chaos and the stars
Compassed the Universe with light.
Laurie, The Warrior
of Light.
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