Marcel Avenue
I spent one lonesome afternoon
Travelling down Marcel Lane;
Like the plight of a pilgrim,
Forever seeking my pendulum,
I come far to wash my faith clean
And to pray for blessed clarity
Here, where all good things reside
Molten gold pierces the canopy;
Aflame the liquid amber leaf
In glorious sinew red and yellow!
A jaded leaf weeps to the summer wind
And the wind whispers wisdom
Through vast thickets of bamboo
Do you hear?
I see old wounds upon the oak trees
Scars of birth and age combined
Alike a spirit moved, carved by timeless avail
For children climb in search of higher fortune
Watching fruit as they saturate
Loosen, fall, and explode onto asphalt:
And soon come those rivers of amber tears
My hands were younger then,
So moist and light and tender;
From womb to rest, I come hither
A sacred place of wisdom
To learn that secret guarded well:
How to live in age, as gracefully
As the cycle of life marches on.
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