sunday afternoon muse


sunday afternoon, over musings and tea

                              you ask why

so (answers in-kind, what pretend witticisms, how fun)

      why do humming birds fly

                              and bees alight, translucent wings shining like petals?

              it's natural

     it's the only thing to do


but if you

shook your head

and demanded a real answer


you laugh  

                  no really

                                  [ sunday afternoon:

                                   - sunshine glares

                                   - dancing dust motes

                                   - lethargy among good company

                                         ->metaphysical reality

                       what a beautiful abstraction ]



                   to fulfill a divinity and calm greater than myself

to caress the border of harmony with woven letters

                      and intertwined words        

               to touch the essence of the eternal and infinite


                                                     that is why i write                                            


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