The Writings and Musings of K.S. Rosenberg
Untitled #1I own everything on this earth,
Here lying in my inkwell, Bartering human will power. The blue body of space Just serving as an ego. Nothing can be closer, As in its distancing moment, Within the ring of words, Then truth haptic And flowing eastward. Calls of the wind go along. The birds and planes Shadowing the river, Are driven atonal In a persistent manner. Tiles of ancient calm, And mounds of ecstasy, Drying in the mottled sun. Anxious ribbons of flame Burning through the brain. Electron nerve endings. Air pockets of instruments. Water in apt calibrations. A forest without axe handles. A moon with diving fishes. You are the golden limit To the agility of nature, Enclosed by infinity, As harvests are spreading Through upturned arms. Thought shares its music. Feeling extends its dance. Intuition chips the curvature. Clarity is bursting art. Life's poetry goes on. |
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