{"id":95248,"date":"2017-07-10T12:00:32","date_gmt":"2017-07-10T11:00:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/?p=95248"},"modified":"2017-07-09T10:07:19","modified_gmt":"2017-07-09T09:07:19","slug":"evensong","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/2017\/07\/evensong\/","title":{"rendered":"Evensong"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Indigo petals, dew beading in their darker folds,<br \/>\nThe memory of cinnamon like alms,<br \/>\nA poet&#8217;s hidden tune: all was flush<br \/>\nIn the days of our setting out<\/p>\n<p>I could rest my cheek against the soil<br \/>\nDreaming the vastness of lips,<br \/>\nThe smooth incomprehensible of touch,<br \/>\nThe seething tendernesses shared<br \/>\nAnd all the fulsome earth our mimicking<\/p>\n<p>Perhaps you knew<br \/>\nAbout the blade-like line beyond the haze<br \/>\nUnder the fell of an eye-less heaven<\/p>\n<p>How could I miss it<br \/>\nIn the creases of our bright<br \/>\nVoluptuous streams,<br \/>\nThe cloven rivulets like parting hair<\/p>\n<p>Scanter now, the journeying, I know \u2013<br \/>\nBut come, against the bark of some unnamed tree<br \/>\nLet us embrace,<br \/>\nAgainst the heedless joy of evensong<br \/>\n______________________________________________<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/emanuel-Garcia.jpg\" ><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft wp-image-95249 size-full\" src=\"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/07\/emanuel-Garcia-e1499591161992.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"100\" height=\"151\" \/><\/a><em>Dr. Emanuel E. Garcia <\/em><em>is a member of the <\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/\" >TRANSCEND Network for Peace, Development and Environment<\/a><em>, an American poet, novelist and physician who now resides in New Zealand. He may be contacted at <\/em><a href=\"mailto:emanuelegarcia@gmail.com\"><em>emanuelegarcia@gmail.com<\/em><\/a><em>.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Indigo petals, dew beading in their darker folds,<br \/>\nThe memory of cinnamon like alms,<br \/>\nA poet&#8217;s hidden tune: all was flush<br \/>\nIn the days of our setting out<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[182],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-95248","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry-format"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95248","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=95248"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/95248\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=95248"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=95248"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.transcend.org\/tms\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=95248"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}