Sonnet by Zora Cross

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Anxious for my awakening, when I died
   I watch great blossoms such as no men dream
   Open and close upon that still dark stream.
A certain brilliance seemed to slide and glide
Uncertainly about from side to side,
   As if a flower searched for a lost sunbeam,
   As if a sunbeam sought its own lost gleam --
And suddenly "The sun and life!" I cried.

When I think back upon it now I sigh.
Those streets, all the harsh edges gone; the bees
   Quiet; soft voices; peace where'er I trod;
And only light from sky to spreading sky.
This dream I dreamed surely is shared with me
   Still in the long still galleries of God.

First published in The Bulletin, 16 April 1925

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This page contains a single entry by Perry Middlemiss published on April 16, 2014 7:53 AM.

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