Poetics

Before thought I dreamt
a language that was primal-
tree think, plant speak
free in the faery mind’s madness
I ran with paradoxes,
a wild huntsman’s lawless rule.

Here in my suburb
I am blessed with starlit skies,
divine rain washes sullen walls,
takes paralysis away.

On border ground
ghosts and music seep
from the world before thought,
free in the faery mind’s madness
I run with paradoxes-
the white one’s hounds and horses.

In my suburb I am blessed
with word from the huntsman’s rule-
tree think, plant speak,
a poetry that rides through all.

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