This is a miracle, too:
How nightfall,
In its heaviness,
Falls as lightly,
As freely,
As day dawns.
How watching reveals nothing
Until it reveals
That all is hidden.
How darkness, through the window,
Reflects oneself back to oneself,
And how daylight at last
Causes the self to vanish.
No light shines on my soul
But that it slowly dims,
No darkness descends upon me
But that its arc swings gently back
Toward redemption.
I breathe, I dream, I slowly die;
And all for this -- and only this -- am I.
--Mr. Gobley
2 comments:
Some things one is born w/.
Such is the poetry of your soul.
so beautiful. thank you.
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