She hears beyond ten,
the sound of one hand clapping.
Nothing comes to mind
Business of being
is busybodying self,
needs no false witness
Mental o' pedal
tormenter love to meddle
what a nomenclature
Left behind, acres
of forest writings. None
the wiser on walls
This life's an empty
breath. A garden ain't here to
impress or placate.
Dumpty the great fall,
silent while branches grew tall.
Come hear, creator
Jul 30, 2018
Jul 30, 2018 at 3:10 AM UTC
She hears beyond ten,
the sound of one hand clapping.
Nothing comes to mind
Business of being
is busybodying self,
needs no false witness
Mental o' pedal
tormenter love to meddle
what a nomenclature
Left behind, acres
of forest writings. None
the wiser on walls
This life's an empty
breath. A garden ain't here to
impress or placate.
Dumpty the great fall,
silent while branches grew tall.
Come hear, creator
To scramble mother's nature is human nature.
