The CORAL GROVES
Meet me on the edge of this world, where water meets sand
or where this road connects with that one,
or where Mountains root to land,
The floor is of sand, like the mountain drift,
There is something to be quietly said for just breathing and being.
The water is calm and still below,
For the winds and waves are absent there,
And the sands are bright as the stars that glow,
Then far below, in the peaceful sea,
The sea-flag streams through the silent water,
Where the water murmur tranquillity
For simply believing…
Through the bending twigs of the Coral Grove.
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