The eye of the sunflower
Stares into the clear skies;
Acres of bright, yellow effluence
Mimic
The voice of innocence.
Red earth
Weaves a dissolving silence
Into the wilderness of the valley.
The phantoms are exiled to meditation
By the voice of innocence.
In the chosen web,
Stirs a fly, vanquished to submission.
The pastures of winged worlds are closed
And the prey trembles
With the voice of innocence.