The Seasonal Heart and the Soul

The planes fly by high and pollinate the skies
my brow grew heavy in the thicket
I waltz along infinite checkers
and watch the traffic go by

The season is open
for the heart from the soul
welcome home Logan 151st
another box from a war

white light of white light of
kick your shoe on the dashboard
clouds push, you, the true originator!
assume all forms

Lady Versa
steadfast and unassuming
your chalice cup
watch for the moss in which I’m moving

horns…drums…blockade!
the wave of night over the day

the planes fly by high
and pollinate the skies

 

~William Teller

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