forbidden Games –
in a child's arms there is Solace
reserved and Longing; we
hear their Cries
in Our sleep their Fruition meted Out
to Time
and Substance -- in shadows
surely
stepping out from the wood
they bow
majestic in Surrender, their
hardwon
certainties blessed and knowing -- Who
is it
that formulates Concise incision? What
matter
of beast becomes Oration of
a supple
breath? We
who Still ourselves before
the Storm await
the rain to cleanse us of
our Sins -- we
go down to the River to crest
these hills
with Silence upturned and Circumspect, our
heavy-hearted
semblance
of Love fulfilled --
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