your own planet

the poetry of dr zen

Tuesday, February 16, 1993

Feathers

The feathers of light
the blue sky
the unending note
the bell never ends
its ringing

The sweeping brush
I paint
everything I see
frigid empty
transparency

The feathers of the night
deep and lonely
stars
children never end
their singing

The first touch
I feel
of anything real
wonderful love
clarity

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