It Was a Quiet Way

7

I am a soul at the white heat of time
My spirit the symbol of the finer forge
That loves more the blaze

Of designated light, than the forms
That trickle here, trickle there
I am the last body of the village of paradise

A generation baptized by universal themes
One port from a billion destinations
The frequency of the architect-gardener

I’ve been to Heaven’s ruby paths
Swam in her dawn-oceans of blazing dew
I felt the charity of atoms, and smiled

At the qbits of smart destinies
My last refuge was the diamond snow
That saw everything as a gift of life.

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