Well I have a story to tell, today
About a feeling, come what may
I have been writing, day by day
Building up, to be able to, just say
I just realised something surprising
I realised that I am residing
In the heart of all I see
I just realised as I was eating
The book appeared to arrive, the ink is invisible.
The pages dissolved in your centre.
And when you find it you know
That it was you that wrote it
Surrounded on every side by nature's infinite forms,
each leaf sways in the wind and speaks of its seed.
Underfoot in a thin layer of fertility, insects busy in darkness
and as we shake off thin veils of the dross of ages past;
I cannot explain love to you;
but you can watch the glistening
of the early morning dew,
or a leaf as it unfolds from perfect bud
Pooh sat under the spreading oak tree, his crayons and notebook next too him.
He had been drawing a picture of the oak tree until he found he was rather uncomfortable
and discovered it was because he'd been sitting on an acorn.
I would caress your heart
with tender handed words
and smooth your brow of worries
with such sweet scented verse
I woke up
then sat down
picked up newspaper
I wrote a poem,
and posted it too.
That poem I wrote
is intended for you.
I had a dream in mind
and the dream said
'Now is the very first time
the unlimited becomes limited'