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94. More blazing than the sun © 3 July 2020 |
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The song I heard you singing falls more blazing than the sun. The woodlark in the coppice calls more blazing than the sun. It’s little things that seem to joy our peace-filled days and yet any sullen silence quick-galls more blazing than the sun. Children frolic on back garden lawns with shrieks of laughter, and then a bee stings one who bawls more blazing than the sun. Wings of butterflies, rasps of crickets, hung webs of spiders, the ordered world of ants, enthrall more blazing than the sun. The distant haze of blue, line-dancing mountains row on row makes late afternoons stop and stall more blazing than the sun. The tiny flower, unnoticed, hidden, nameless, lost, unknown, outshines the fields of peonies tall, more blazing than the sun. And Bruce, his song so incomplete without your voice to sing, entrusts you hear his words, though small, more blazing than the sun. |