The Water

On damp plains sits a morning dew

It crystals spotted through the light

Soft on the eye that sees it true.

 

But imagine all mornings due

Fallen like a bath on green site

Turning all it is sudden blue:

 

The landscape changed by ocean hue

Would be all eyes, of day or night

The years and their growth, old and new.

 

This water of the due of dew

The meeting of Seed with its height

Would spring all life and its death, too.

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