Glimpses
The wind is blowing now
Running its fingers
Through the sea of grass in the mountainside
I can’t see the wind;
But I wish I could.
Your shoulder feels warm as I lean on
You wrap one arm around me,
Tonight, not for once have I turned,
To see your face.
I know you are here; it’s all that matters
It’s an assurance,
Beyond words or writing.
The wind creates mad ripples
Through the sea of green...
The mountains are quiet, waiting;
The stars:
Bright enough to light the way
Yet dim enough to hide us both.
I keep my eyes fixed
On the landscape; so proud
Of its artist..
For every canvas, we ever painted
Are matchless to the glimpses
Of a world,
Beyond the world itself.
The moment is defining
I no longer wish:
To see the wind,
Or for anything at all...
2006-07-03
01:02:14
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14 answers
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asked by
king_of_darksight
1
in
Arts & Humanities
➔ Other - Arts & Humanities