It was poetry and then
it was a thousand blessings
but it was poetry
bestowed the many treasures.
It was faith and then
well, it was harmonized in you
but it was poetry
and birthlessness.
It was death and then
mind over matter?
in the morning—
in open doors—
imaginary blossoms
of—and then it was blue air,
clouds passing through words,
angels in disguise,
a holy hidingplace,
oh holy day of life, it was life
but it was poetry, bright dream
of eternal childhood's inner light,
all directions in and out.
Everyone invited.
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