There’s A Quiet Joyousness

There’s a quiet joyousness
In these rites of Spring,
The cuckoo and the pigeon’s breast,
Seasons on a wing.

Dawn chorus is my necklace,
Morning dew my rings,
Sublime the geese-calls overhead,
Divine the dew-blade sings.

My needs no more than gods would bless,
I know I’m better off,
With sun and moon, a place to rest,
All other gains are lost.

4 thoughts on “There’s A Quiet Joyousness

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