Saturday, August 31, 2013

Powdered Sky

Wonder,
Patience,
They have no mix,
Left to wander,
Sifting,
Looking for ways to be expressed.

Small moments,
Ignored and left to themselves,
Deliver joy,
And perfected emotion;
Bright,
And crisp,
They waver,
In the sense of peace.

As I left the temple,
Hidden in the jungle of sensory,
I looked to the sky,
Freed of danger,
And in the pit of my loss,
I smiled;
At the same old things.

ISA

No comments:

Post a Comment