somewhere deep dark and distant where mossy greens blend into midnight blues and fireflies go about their lives with no fascination about them
there is no extraordinary stirring of leaves by silently whirling breezes which did not already exist otherwise
from within the womb of such plumage rooted snug in soil a misty light softly tender with lavender embers rises gently like fragrant smoke
hardly discernible for no eyes are watching this barely birthed glow makes its way up soaking all else in between with its nothingness
the enchantment of this undefinition reviving all germ, shoot and bloom to blossom into essence each its own
a symphony of unseen spirits breaks into harmonies unrehearsed each mute note falling into the place that it is making
the air coils in dreamy spirals and no one can tell where the earth meets the sky as stars bathed in this formless luminescence dance
somewhere deep dark and distant where mossy greens blend into midnight blues and fireflies go about their lives with no fascination about them
the druid of life in silent constancy brews his alchemy and perhaps you do not grasp this beauty for you remain too caught up with other things.
there is no extraordinary stirring of leaves by silently whirling breezes which did not already exist otherwise
from within the womb of such plumage rooted snug in soil a misty light softly tender with lavender embers rises gently like fragrant smoke
hardly discernible for no eyes are watching this barely birthed glow makes its way up soaking all else in between with its nothingness
the enchantment of this undefinition reviving all germ, shoot and bloom to blossom into essence each its own
a symphony of unseen spirits breaks into harmonies unrehearsed each mute note falling into the place that it is making
the air coils in dreamy spirals and no one can tell where the earth meets the sky as stars bathed in this formless luminescence dance
somewhere deep dark and distant where mossy greens blend into midnight blues and fireflies go about their lives with no fascination about them
the druid of life in silent constancy brews his alchemy and perhaps you do not grasp this beauty for you remain too caught up with other things.
(Penned March 20, 2010)
ah, the magic forest where souls shimmer in the white nights shedding melancholies. extraordinary, your poem :)
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading and sharing feedback; I have my epiphanies, albeit few and far in between ^_^
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