If the waterfall
Down the rocks
And the spring
Is piano music
In drops of dew
Then the dove that wings
Through the dew moistened breezes
Is trasnfixed in crucifix.
By the call of cascading tears
And the rocks,slippery,wrapt in moss
That bathes the dove in sunny waters
And crowns a gift to watery eyes
Of the bee in the perfumed flower.
A buzz of a chainsaw as it slices the bark
Of a tree that builds a shelter
In forest of breezy leaves
To the Minds that hide in the tortoise shell
Makes dead shadows of the mist
Of the fumes of power plants distant
That poisons the babbling spring.
Let thunder crack trees of light
In the stormy skies
And make an earthquake of a sun
Wrapt in slumber.The Ghost of power plant mist
Cast out by wine,in throne of eyes
That in reason gaze,at the mist of eternity.
The mind must not poison the spring,from which it drinks
And drinks deep.
How can the buds of Nature
Breathe flowery Spirit
And light energy through electric wires
To the mist that embraces the cloud mist
-the ozone layer-
And seeks the death of the shadow
That is shade from the sun?
The Ghost of a dove as food embraced
Is but breakfast to the watery eyes.
The flame of reason will not throne but in light.
Here,taste the forbidden fruit.
Do not distort the flowers in the mirror
Of the blissful Garden.The worm is a gift from the Lord
And so is the fish,and so is the victim
Of the armed robber.At the Cross passing by the path near the forest.
The trees are wrapt in melody
Beneath the forever
Light of Heaven.