Sonnet NATURE...

Means anything but ``sense'' but penetrates Your little nutshell. Terms of light recover Everything that eye or star creates; You have to know the loving from the lover. Romantic copies classicize the brain. A speck becomes color, as the point Of light first found became a round refrain, A layered thing that darkness may anoint.

You break an egg. And fantasy flies across The field, black gold and silver, and another Vision cracks; one cell contains no loss But shine and shadow. Spectra makes it mother:

Sacrifice chiaroscuro in you, Till gestures of the mind alone continue.

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