Home > Garden of Grasses > seeing you
seeing youby Alan Harrisin the eye I find history and mystery not to be known even as your own eye presses me like a white daytime moon nudging soft against an open sky right in front of outer space leading to everything else that flies and falls including any flying-falling maple seed to bring an unfoldment of up and down (now don't the sprawling-upward limbs and thirsty spreading-downward roots trace out a delicate explosion so slow so sweet that the tree has to yes die to go bare to fall to rot to sleep to have been all of what a tree is all of?) but how I look at you my very alter-life is as moon over healthy tree at play in sunlight in behind your eye behind your inner eye behind the innerness of your inner eye behind even behindness all the way back to here I am across a table from your most amazing being wondering if you see what journey is behind me all the way to here
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