incantation Posted April 14 Share Posted April 14 I still read sonnets But cannot count syllables, Deliver fire from the Eyes of angels who Counted ten fires, will The verses of my life be preserved. I Paint heaven from The view of my mother's Womb. No one can Help me to excavate dreams Of rusting suns, desolate Train tracks passing the Running eyes of time. I still talk to my Wife, she left long Ago into the drowning skies. The symmetry of storms, asymmetrical past, balancing Forms-who was I yesterday?. The coherence of Music illuminates memory Into order, code to identity, As I roam with the melody Into comprehension, waltz With the universe and Rise to the rapture of thunder. 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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