I spell a good curse.
I don't mean to be perverse.
Every crease, another world.
Another universe.
Could see craters and mountains of dust within his wrinkles.
Saw it was only the moon reflecting off his face.
Contemplating destiny
Fusing records
Tightening the harness.
At least there is a breath.
Individuals who worry about the dying leaves on a plant, or if they remembered to write a thank you note to the pope.
That person who is designing the next energy source
The scarce but growing
Its suddenly about us now
May songs of love replace the sadness of the war.
Where soldiers can meet by the river with wounded hearts and empty hands.
Where beast run through vasts fields of baby petals and swallow the sun in its entirety.
No comments:
Post a Comment