not a meadow ablaze with you,
nothing but a singular ambition
to be known
how I steal your song
as it lifts from the parched earth
and shout it out to everyone
who can hear it
not many, perhaps,
but a few at least willing
to know you one more season,
revealed at last by observation
if you are pleased to surrender
your secret through
my consciousness,
I will never know
perhaps it is your divine undertaking
that you willingly grant to the world
so we will never forget
what is beauty
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