Paper Boat

In passing over from hell

I am blessed with a beatific thought of you

Such was the silence of moment in hell

That rain was wet in embracing itself

With no one to play in it with a paper boat

 

Now that you consider heaven as

A moment of rain blessed with paper boat

That we could set sails together to tomorrow

In a paper boat

That we could borrow from a kid on lark

And play with the playfulness of an acrobat

And rest in the lap of nature

Like a blooming flower rests in the bosom of meadows

And a thrush dart on the dry leaves of grass.

 

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