Juxtapositioning

words are foreplay for the soul
November 11th, 2011 by me

This

A beautiful wild dream erupted in pink-glowed majesty this morning. Rough white-tipped waves greenblueing between me and the leafy redyelloworange panoply that lay at the feet of Spirit Father as he rose through the mist into a magical glowing golden sky.

 

This

O my father

guardian of this watery green

and low bluegray

on weary feet.

O my father

this, this blink

this gasp

this wonder.

This is why we come

and sing our dreams

into the graycloud skies.

 

 

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