Omer Day 19-Worlds in her dewdrops

                      Hod sh’b Tiferet*
Splendor of dewdrops suspended
from every twig—tapered rosy ends
of budding branch tips—the weeping
cherry’s candelabra. 

Indra’s net! you tell me as you lift
your new Papillon macro-lens binoculars
so I may see the upside down reflection.
Sun’s fire ball to the lower left,

green field above it in the shining
dew drop.  Trees, top down,
at woods edge, in miniature, rooted
in the hidden place from which

we all arrive.  Everything rooted
in the rising, falling light.
        *Humble splendor w/in Beauty’s harmonic truth


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