O bluedark dream.O heart of space, open. O end of days.O ending of lightthat streams into the wood.O invisible gate, whose finials rise nowgreened in doubt. O hold and trust.O face at the window again, your thoughtsare prayers. Always and O foreverthe slow waters along the edge of whatwe give ourselves to see. O peace that isa shadow, or a grayed stone— come word me comfortsurer than such hurt, O surer Odeeper than song.
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