every fountain or gem played music every bush had berries underneath without any skeletons in the garden of eden
god talked god walked and burnished every berry on every branch admiring all so and the dewdrops collected
soft death as unknown as any unhappy thought death never before never done never taken never chosen never got
over clean mud and clean filth was the greenest grass that reflected the perfect musical tones from all fountains and pearls
the tree in the middle the apple of the Almighty's eye the proud branches and the variable leaves that breathed and blew
we will not go back to the primeval revere the reverie the relation the reverberation the realization upon us forevermore
outwardly we go outwardly we seethe going going going upon blackness and void into seeming stars into seeming void
but there is a place in all of our hearts where fountains or gems sing music every bush with berries burnished a garden of eden
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