The forgotten sound of a stilling grievance
Distends from memory of distant lands.
The sun breaks through to the heart with reverence
And reveals a wandering spirit.
Keeper of the winds, release in deftly blow
From where he watched, a silent sprig of contemplation arose…
The receding fog has left disparate leaves
Moist in the glistening sun, an iridescent sea of green.
Sphagnum spires arise in columned claustral seclusion
Within a verdured garth alone there stands the oak.
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