Stanza 1
like a curtained backdrop sit the mountains
looming serenely with peculiar presence of mind
at their feet sprawl these crowded streets
where a soft wind rustles the lonely cypress trees
oblivious and with heads bend rush the people
serving greed, the insatiable master
Stanza 2
one and all who bow to this chameleonic master
be it money, fame or even the towering mountains
are not far removed from the pioneering people
who with prosperity on every mind,
even as they buried heartache ‘neath the trees,
saw down the long, misty passage golden streets
Stanza 3
hidden to the hopeful eyes there lurks on decaying streets
the dark side of chasing desire--now here master
trampling lives under old willow trees
But beyond a path winds up the mountains
where the smog cannot reach and clog the mind
perspective comes from above the tired people
Stanza 4
from on high a voice calls to the people
softly, potently it weaves its way down the streets
“Let Me in” echoes in each mind
and to each heart presents a new Master
One whose hands shaped these peaceful mountains
and who with grace grows each of the trees
Stanza 5
each frantic life is stretching up like trees
yet finding nothing chokes the soul of the people
equally blind to the Maker of the shrubby mountains
they ignore the voice calling in the streets
some sadly fail and misrepresent this strong Master
and so cause resentment in many a battered mind
Stanza 6
yet He who guards the heart guards the mind
knows the time for those dwelling under the trees
knows also the gnawing want they call master
and still longs to call them His people
that one day rejoicing will mark these streets
drowning out the cries from the rocky mountains
Tercet
the haze thickens around magnolia trees beside the mountains
dulling each mind to the unseen battle in the lazy wide streets
while each master contends for these unsuspecting people
That's pretty impressive, sister. I haven't tried my hand at the dreaded Sestina. I doff my cap to you.
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