the sharp short music of songbirds
sounding in the sun-painted chambers of green hall may—
these rough-textured trunks arising
from the ground of gravitational earth exploding
in the tens of thousand verdant solar leaflets—
no words envelop all the energetic pure
intelligence erupting from the sentience of mind
dividing its one being in a variegated reverie—
photosynthesis my eye!
the crown of creation only lies heavy
when creation identifies with its crown
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