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I saw a bride splendid in white garmentsI saw a woman with one hundred children The children plump and firm within her arms,But some fell down or strangers took and ate them
Now we're up on the edge
and over, on the mountain
with mountains beyond. Behind us,
in the dark
of the valley, villages are embers
I am the word juggler.I juggle the wordslike swords.I slice sensewith poetic license.
This is the kingdom of the Water Bear.
To enter here, you have to shrink
and slow down, down. A day
is one tick of the clock, one blink
The light through the blind is a poem,
the way it illuminates air.
And the shadows that fall
on the floor and the wall
are signs that a poem is there.