Was it in the fragrance of the scented mint that brushed against my cheeks, or those lilac petal chains on
was it in those rays that danced sequentially across the green flaked Grecian urn, or the tearful noonday noodle from a seagull’s stricken cry, or that scarlet robin roosting on a grey grained granite wall?
For whatever reason all these thoughts appeared as locust swarms, sending aural stimuli to whet a dormant vision.
Suddenly the stream before my eyes unveiled its fountain,
the moonstone mountain peak its beacon light,
each sprouting plant became an earthly chalice rooted in its own lifeline juices.
The twig on every tree transformed itself into an olive branch that oozed a verdant human kindness.
For the first time spring tide feelings pulsed my every inner being,
with those dizzy revelations
that normally evade our daily rush.
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