The marsh grass bends, submitting, not opposed, to the autumn breeze at the place called Beautiful. The falling acorn thumps, speaks, sent to preach beyond this living oak. The river, watching, full eyes flowing by, easing, calming: steady. Heart and mind, knee bends submitting, not opposed to the Word, to the Word dwelling in those without silver, without gold. Only the Name, a gaze, eyes direct looking into, clutching right hand. Firming ankles, walking, now sent to grow. The Name rivers by, Glory praised, leaping, walking, forever changed.
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