Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Beauty
In that gentle moment,
Tugging on the sleeve,
When the rays of light,
Will not give you leave,
Paused.
Light mists into the orbs,
A blending in the soul,
Breath halts its vapid step,
In sight of what makes whole,
Awed.
And a memory is touched,
But which is not so clear,
Moved in lovely symmetry,
And breathing holy fear,
Roused.
And when the moment fleets,
Like the waking of the mind,
That abandons wondrous fields.
Eyes open and become blind.
Doused.
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