Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Fields of Elysium

Suffering behind the glass
With yearning
Burning in me to stretch my limbs
To span this range, this boundless stretch
Of green?

Shooting, sprouting, stemming ____
Green cell unseen by you or me
Breeds cultured rows
And wild tufts
And seeds to seek the perpetual sky.

Blocks that change in hue and tone
Of green
Or gold or brown or lavender,
Wrought by those cracked hands, of leather
Sown by greed.

These green Fields of Elysium,
Reserved only for those that see,
For those that live,
For those that die,
With hands outstretched toward green.

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