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The Guardian

Verdant guardians,
bathing in the sun-sweetened milk of the mother Sky,
illuminate paths physical and META.  
Without them, what dull mockery of civilization would I have to endure?
Next to them, I am still something, though in a sense a piece of this larger whole; under their reach I am drowned in care-
quite confidence shelters me.

27 Jun 07

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Only my first poem-wrote ems while bored at work.
 — joedooey

great symbolism here; i love this poem

in the last line i think you meant 'quiet confidence'
 — thefatwon

This poem needs clarification. Verdant guardians? Green guardians - trees? Milk left in the sun would curdle, not get sweet. Is this a poem about trees?
 — unknown