Tulip Fields

Rita Angus  collections.tepapa.govt.nz

At the flood a river
runs wherever it wills
turns alley to stream
pasture land to pond 

In the sodden fields
the tulips in their rows
close upon themselves
under the sheer weight
of love without limits

The thirsty soul lusts
for what it cannot own
Its grandeur blighted
by its own appetite

“Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.” ~ Wendell Berry

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