Return to Paradise

by Pavel Chichikov

The meadow is a burning paradise

Consumed not by the sun yet burning twice,

Once by August sunlight turning gold

The seeding rye by dragonflies patrolled,

And once by growing since they still respire

A slower conflagration, golden wire

Holding up its seed heads to the sky,

Artifacts and yet they multiply

And if by fire these two senses burn

Two flames of joy above the altared soul,

As dragonflies above the meadow turn

So does the eye of innocence patrol

And to the gates of paradise returns

From which in shame of innocence it stole

(See Pavel's new book, Mysteries and Stations, here.)

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