sketchbookthought

my attempt at blending the arts I cherish

can you hear them?

Things In Themselves

 

If your eyes catch a glimpse of the holy,

ancient night—do you think about

the stars, or ever puzzle over how

strangely kin they are to

our wild, human souls?

 

How those venerable, dying lights

beam their beauty out for God and,

you and me, or how, like

silent sentinels, they exist

 

companionless…

or though they continue to reach,

reach out with their distant blaze,

they are endlessly craving the

 

attention of a lingerer

that will marvel beyond the fading shell of

rock and bone,

to behold what causes us to burn.

 

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This entry was posted on September 11, 2013 by in Musings and tagged , , , .

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