Echoes
The echo of the echo
In the minds of you and I,
It tells our lips to tell it,
It flies to make us fly.
The glory of the glory
That enrings our eyes like spring,
It lifts us in its vision
To wing and dance and sing.
The echo of the echo
Then replays again, remains,
Reverberating verbals
That rain and kiss and reign.
The glory of the glory
That is me and you, and we,
It soars in every story
That leaps into "agree"!
It dances up the hollows
Of our lungs and mouths and arms
Till world in world is whirled
And charms are meeting charms.
It touches lips with brushes,
Becomes a firmer sum;
Our inner lust of winning
Is one and whole and won.
The echo of the echo,
Oh, it will not die or go,
But ever be an echo
To show, and tell, and show.
Copyright © Brian Faulkner | Year Posted 2008
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