The Allusion
My paradise is regained
in understanding
as in confession
Where future and past
are not in torment
Where there are
No epic defenders
No 'isms'
No temptation
Where love is
Sweet clover, bluebells.
The rain-band
The silence of night
The longing
Where
There is no arrogant interruption
of set beliefs
Or sidelined spirituality.
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