Poem 5.23.16

Although the winds realize another dream amidst the zens sunrise on wiser beliefs, I’ll always drink the fire of the wonder of blue.
I deceive no scheme in the light of dreams when the blend of color is the mix of seams that forthways blink in the eye of truth.
The truth is you never left me, as i said, yet in ways i revel a dream, and as a sunrise of zen as winds depend, the wonder redeems

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