Where the World Unfolds

The brown moth of solitude settled down
Amid the verdant boughs that my head crown.
And by and by, the woods opened their doors
Showing many leaves scattered on their floors.
A faint sound arose as from distant shores,
Waves softly flapping through the sycamores.
A laughter I heard raining with the dew,
Rising up to the clouds as the wind blew.
My heart’s waters became a lucid pond,
Gazing the azure, the sun as it dawned,
And my soul running with the crystal streams
Stood to feel the world, the breath of its beams.

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