Glaring Clarity

Inside this forest of angers, tall with trees
Filtering light made green with lost grieves,
By brightness there, I watched a whiteness glaring
Of murmurs, of all that was, as meant to be,
Wearing a celebration of incandescence
Raving high in that place of talismans.

Stand there, by that clearing densely clotted.
Silent, with those believers of lost causes;
Saints whose passing, forgotten in their rages
Of angelic dancing, rushed an age
Of bearing as your own, and you are aghast
To see that they are not, nor were your past.

Those words within those woods, that stood as wolves
Howling for lover after lover of lost men,
Those by the wayside fallen had not yet seen
These narrows cleared, this path had seen white wisps
That now have gone, uncovering eyes of dignity.
Where all is sudden, and of immediate clarity.


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