When the cosmos got chilled in the way my own voice did,
I can see no attunement in harsh water wave...
Global harvesting spike, almost ripened, enchanted,
Growing in a strange way in the spring, by our breath...
Keep dissolving in shadowy sorrow concordance,
In a hurry to vanish in April abode,
As a matter of fact, searching for sheer essence:
What the sun rays and full-throated birds singing code.
So the sheer bliss will come, and the hope expectation
Will refract through the tract, as eternity choir.
It will stop streaming like the old-time false sensation,
Making me solve the dispute mire with sacred fire.
Only pensiveness changes the look for the image,
Which is offering prospects of vow climbing stair.
But again I can hear your rapt voice. It is large.
And believe me, it jewels the dismal day wear...
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Author:
cellinic (
Offline) - Published: December 19th, 2024 04:30
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 32
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments6
Hopefully speaking of a voice that accompanies a transformative journey from disconnection and sorrow to hope and clarity, guided by introspection and the powerful, supportive voice that brightens even the darkest days.
For me a very interesting read and i will re-read, as it is making ask a lot of questions, enjoyed the read
I never liked vows..
Wow! Powerful words that invite multiple reads! Well done, my friend! 🌹👏
Excellent write
Gripping stuff .. took me on a magical mystery tour with spectacular insights & views whenever I tried to read between the lines .. 😎👍
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