Echoes of the One

by Bill Donaghy

I have learned more

from the shine in a dewdrop

on the petal of a wildflower

than from man and all his theories

his grasping after power

I have read more in the falling leaves

That tumble, wilt, and bear new life

Than ever in the pages of man

scratched in haste and full of strife

I have listened in the cool night's breath

To symphonies more grand

Than orchestras assembled fair

For the feeble notes of man

But through the words and wood and paint

though cracked and frail they be

I see with trembling fingers

a trace of eternity

We frame with fallen hands

the echo of the One

we reach to catch in song and stone

the Heart of our True Home

And though it's but an icon

a shadow before the sun

I'll write and shape and sing as well

my echos of the One

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