The smell of pungent purple,
heavy and warm,
fills the house.
The decadent flower,
outside the open window,
spends her royal fragrance.
A real presence
saturates this drawn summer night,
and no cheap scented thing
washes over me.
I will sing for the veil that never lifts/I will sing for the veil that begins, once in a life time maybe, to lift/I will sing for the rent in the veil/I will sing for what is in front of the veil, the floating light/ I will sing for what is behind the veil—light, light and more light/This is the world and this is the work of the world. ~Mary Oliver
Monday, June 9, 2008
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1 comment:
Hmmm.... I love it! And, having recently inhaled the fragrance of lilacs, I too can smell them.
Love the poetry. more, more more!! :)
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