The crushed seed

The many eyes of a room in tears
    has dust for vision
    had dust for vision
    the past will rest & it will die
(I gave three words to fire; one would’ve been fine)

The many eyes of the world in arms
    can it not bear?
    will it not bear?
    the house is one & it will die
(The crushed seed is very much a nut)

The many eyes of a single eye
    the river in sight
    the river is sight
    the rain is wood & it will die
(Visit sky often, perhaps even more often)

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