So it’s Autumn again Our countryside paints in aquamarine, deep purple sky
Ours, like no urban home, has a stage which
Breathes and moves,
No, lives and feels The leaves perform for us today, I am sure Ask them for me, what makes them dance With such an unspeakable lilt? For puppets of the wind,
Whom I direct, how is it?
To be nothing, have I felt it and yet you see it,
Yes, you see nothing and that
Is what I cannot bear, that
Is our burden since there is too much to share.
What I profess is unspeakable, wilts away
My words fail and the wind is unsympathetic,
In this way the frost I cannot feel must de-
couple me from a spectator’s stem, to
Let me fall again, fall into something more abstract. Let me Show you fear in a handful of dust, since
Heaven has forbade me to spectate for longer.
So I beat on, (ceaselessly), I plead, My daughter, do not curse the angels It was my pleasure watching you grow up and old, in
Our experience together where lifelines run parallel.
You can ask me all about it, please ask Me everything I failed to express as a father
Let me show you love in another lifetime,
Ask me now, while I comprehend, ask
How it feels
To exist simply in a whisper, To be nothing more than Wind chimes for the eyes, To inhabit a verdant sheaf; this is the human dream.
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