Within Poem by Martin Moore

WITHIN
It's within
A simple mussel on a single rock
In an ocean vast and grand
The torn spine of an upset currach
On a speechless, silent strand
It's within
A bovine huddle beneath weeping trees
A scrum of hide and misted breath
The frenzied flight of a honey bee
The skeletons dreaded dance of death
It's within
The pure petals of a fragrant flower
Or under the jungles canopy
In the panicles of the virgins bower
Or the passion flowers sweet panoply

A poem exists in sight and sound
Of every living, breathing thing
Reflected in a verse unbound
A bubbling thermal spring
Bursting forth and breaking ground
Encircling, enrapturing
The countless beauty to be found
The subtle magic that lies within.