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Temple of Wonder
A Poem by:
David
Coe
Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author.
No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written
consent.
We
spin on a ball of carbon,
on the edge of a cosmic wheel,
the background sound of creation,
that speaks to us all,
the
sound,
like staccato weaving a pattern as on treetops,
melody lapping the air,
and that was full with a perfume,
as it filtered down to my senses,
and where I stood I was small,
I evaporated into time,
the dust of my fathers,
rode this ancient chariot,
must have thought this everlasting dream,
rode this temple of wonder,
rode the everlasting dream,
as we spin on a ball of carbon,
on the edge of a cosmic wheel.
David Coe
Copyright ©2006
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