The Separate Notebooks


The moment, an eternal figment
Abides in writing, somewhere
In the script that set our mind apart
Forgotten, were conventions of literature

All was like an embassy of poetry
Where the full moon rolls out and
Like the ritual of kissing, we salute
The huge reflected umbrella of the stars

Down into the river banks
Of a midsummer night, the Earth
A blanket of supernatural powers
While your endless flowing of words

Carries on for however many years
You are given, the moment endures:
The moment only, an eternal fragment
That you shared with all that shares

As speakers of the living, as the bells
In sunken cities of ancient lands
The future comes sooner than expected
To the Separate Notebooks of
The imagination without bounds.

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