How Might One Be a Harbinger of Light
How might one be a
harbinger of light,
A messenger of miracles to
come?
Now we are inhabitants of night,
Unaware
that once there was a sun.
Knowledge is the flower of
belief,
Kept by green-thumbed gardeners of
mind,
As beauty finds its apogee in
grief,
Hard by the stones the world has left
behind.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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