The Great Motion

25 October 2019

https://poems.culturing.net/2019/10/the-great-motion/

Love is not it all, she said.
He smiled. It had been some time
since last they spoke,

and when he awoke
the morning seemed like fire,
bright with dreams and smoke.

What song was in the breeze!
And every sneeze, a new commandment
to be free,
and be at peace.

Oh, dream once more, cold world, old world.
There are still so many suns.