seevision

14,572 poems read

Mine own things
where the invisible circle
to put in my hands matters divulgent
the prayer stuff tattered
and out of sight.
Seeing that leaves and silks
and inner comfort
streams of joy
have a state unlimited. 

Of leaves and silks
from little lands

which is what I wait
from what's most faint
what the heart needs impelling
to impart a favored dwelling.


Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Mine Own Things