—
THE BLESSING AND POISON OF GOOD WORDS
no moon, but a single
sickle call of an owl
in the deep valley
cold stars are winter’s eyes
as warmth leaves the world
and darkness wraps all up
as close to silence
as one can think.
by rivers and stars are we lifted up.
by rivers and stars are we brought low.
silent voices dipped in cloud.
I shall sit in darkness and dissolve into light.
dissolve into endless light.
dissolve into light.
simonhlilly 
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