Sunday, September 29, 2013


The light distinctively is drawn
onto the breast of morning,
as shadow, dappled dreamings;
the day will be reborn.

And night surrenders slowly,
then in an instant gone,
as threads of shining sunshine,
weave yet another dawn.

To wake the addled musings,
from watered darkness torn,
will be the task of daylight;
the Now forever formed.

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