Of which the tongues declare

What is the colour of silence?

Here presently co-occupied

By fire and petal’s concresence

Our rose-garden life be descried


Mirror Mirror deep inside

Mine the mortal hand and eye

Black-blue pool’d through vistas wide

Framing frozen symmetry


What patterns thy fret-saw begets

Thy knot-stitch embroidered relief

The surf-line that curves as it whets

The sharpening stone of belief


Common  cause in unknowing

Reflected why in this prism

Dark the glass yonder flowing

Secur’d aye in this prison


Time’s presence, bloom of time’s passing

Consciousness, your fawn’s liquid glance

Thine and mine eye, hours amassing

Surprising to joy out this trance

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