Tea cups
Colossal calls of candid
Consciousness
Bright
Bright breaking shafts
Of golden light
Three wavered
Well mannered
But
Unhampered
Hallmarks to the dirigible
Sense of burden
All marked
Over each of us:
The beat
Clipping leaves
From our suddenly-simple
Trees
Clear
And though clearing still
They're nevernear
Three glows
Tea knows
Cups of sunstone standing
A Calling of wisdom herself
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