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Andrew Rymill Apr 2014
No matter how
You may attempt
To grow out
The container
Of your life
Which was provided for you.

There are others
Who weigh you down?
With the weight
Of their ideas.

Empty the bowl
Continue to reach
Through your roots depthless
In the soil of your speaking
And then from your hand.
May sprout the words
With green leaf script
Growing up the scansion
Of the stars.

For in the gleaning
Of bonsai
The tiny and insignificant
Are magnified
For burden’s elegance

Is Refinement
The smoothness of the soul.
For what is compact
Is always whole.
Andrew Rymill Apr 2014
candle -
burning ends
ever flicker and
beautiful
torch

words
have no commotion
unless they
are used
like rags.

To find like the
wind
the emptiness
under
the loan of a door.

— The End —