I used to listen to the sound of Night carving trees in my yard
As Night touched
What's perched in the leaves
took shape and came into life:
A face afloat above dusted Oblivion,
a hand reaching for Love pulsing with the Heart
Of Dark . . .
More
and more; I could not tell them all
And I saw myself fluttering wings
Flying in the dark Void as well
Just like I had been doing this all the time
On the wings of Word
Heading for somewhere unknown - There
Many were familiar
Everything was new . . .
Day became longer and paler
After a tree was completed
But Night has never been tired of looking for another one, and
Then I turn to You.
@2005 - 2022
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