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)