Piercing through the shroud of the unlit wrath,
A glowing creature crawls, through pane to eye.
Upon my face, dance the heated rays
The fever of remote fires spurs my tired spirits
Let lambent light illuminate my path,
As the break of dawn paints the distant sky
Fueled by vibrant beams, unspoken voices say:
Blessed be this day; you have no reason to fear it
I smile.
Oh beautiful day, could I ever rise depressed or moody?
I marvel at Apollo's globe; its fire, power and mass.
I lay and ponder to watch the heavenly beauty:
“It’s just a ball of gas.”
MYHL
10/13/02
Copyright © 2006 Marc Y. H. Landeweer
No comments:
Post a Comment