On the Death of His Father

by Aidan Andrew Dun

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He has moved
beyond a
limit of vision

Given his memory
of life to the
memory of God

And with his friend
seated in a hall of green
trees overhanging

A river, they call
like birds of heaven
on black clarinets

Made of the
deepest night-sky:
entire lives

Enshrined
in the rich mosaic of
absolute mind

Treasure-house of everything
which has ever existed
that now exists

Or is coming to existence
in numberless
planes of time.






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