Glorify thee inspirations with laced stars,
For they think nothing but the safety of dawn.
Rough surface of hands be softened.
Falling sweat under the sun be wiped.
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When shall the little bird realize this thing? Is it when the time already reached their time? Or, Is it when our ideas already reached the edge of conscience? a very nice poem...........with lots of images. thank you very much. tony
A well articulated piece of poetry, nicely penned in poetic diction with spiritual insight. A lovely poem indeed. Thanks for sharing Rondel. Please read my poem COLOSSAL MISCARRIAGE OF JUSTICE.