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PAGAN POETRY A contrived secret... A concurrent whisper Seeps into my brain To rob me of all faculties Of body, Of thought. Of soul... A gorgeous cacophony Envelopes me To surround my Inner and outer core Once more I am ALIVE Filled to overflow With feeling Ancient flux of being In tune with nature Matching the cycles of desire That disturb concrete realization Phantasms have no foot In techni-colored fields... Daffodils wave their Lazy worshiping heads To the ever-present sun Which rules the day And the commandeering moon Who blasts the crimson night Blood baptism of God and Spirits United yet again Nature enraptures nurture As, once, in a sacred dream... | |
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