Practice Apprearance

With process of so much world in the greenest of gorgeous, we live a straight line of giving in and out. Dawn's practice, red grass and moaning green, opens to the falling sigh of birds. A program and reliance swelters as crush winds strike sinking sinking ships. People are you tired in the morning, listing with the wind? Sunk forces bring monstrous to the end of sentence structure. What ship, in its presence, knows the lurching forward memory? Cracks in the sidewalk and huge sinking waves relieve life of death with gasp of great preamble, lungful of water and wind of curious prevalence. The strictness of love gives wildflowers, blue sky and wonder how light spears thru leafage with the grace of tomorrow. When poets lay on the bed, rising images of structure pour from certain music and botches the regular prayer. It's more than simple greenness in the course of life, it resounds in the springing of birds from branch to branch. These mysteries speak of love, not the tangle. The river goes wild. Flocks stir fires, poems send mist.