Our one world, will be saved by beauty
when we remember, how to see
with the eyes of a child
into the golden heart, of every living thing.

We will feel deeply
the earthly memories
etched into the mountains of home
the forgetfulness in the oceans heave, the forgiving

and even the resilient oak
resisting great winds and time, falls
to the wisdom of ages…

and thus we stand
with the aching of our souls
to behold, the wondrous stellar nights

and before us now
and at every moment dancing
beneath the obscure shroud, of
indignant hype, and mercurial spin

the simple saving grace

of a bird, or a bloom, or the heart
behind the eyes of an adversary, who
will be none other than our own shadow
dancing in anguish, waiting

to be seen.