Once the morn came like inside...

Once the morn came
Like an inside of a Church...
Silent
Contemplative
With a tree dressed all white
Covered by blossoms ...
Her pollens pale pink though
Spreading in the fragrant air...

Once the morn came like a river
Reflecting the sky calm
Where from
A breeze made a run
Through each and everyone
Full of aerospray...
Not bottled or kept compressed
In tin cans by external force pressed...

But free...
Free the Godly
Free like that weekender white tee
With an icon of a bird saffron
Flying...

Once the morn came like her
An urban walker coming of age...
Dipping silent into the free spirit
Of the sky...
Of the fragrant breeze...
Of the river flowing carelessly...
Of that tree inside blooming...
Of that Church always forming...

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