OLD MANUSCRIPT
The sky
Is that beautiful old parchment
In which the sun
And the moon
Keep their diary.
To read it all
One must be a linguist
More learned than Father Wisdom
And a visionary
More clairvoyant than Mother Dream.
But to feel it
One must be an apostle:
One who is more than intimate
In having been, always
The only confidant—
Like the earth
Or the sea.
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