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All That Constitutes a Receptive Mind
Grey dawn was retreating from my
Front gate.
I looked upon its obvious distress;
And, slinking away as the new day
Breaks...
Its all too apparent old weariness.
What strange compunction pulls on
Us to pause
At the sudden insistence of a whim?
This, which, seemingly, without any
Cause,
Rising upwards from very deep within;
Would I have tarried but too long a
While
I feared I might undo the fragile spell...
But in that brief moment was
Reconciled --
With childlike innocence where
Wonder dwells!
And God forbid that time should
Undermine...
All that constitutes a receptive
Mind.
Copyright ©
John Fleming
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