Breezes
of Nuance
There were whispers calling
at the edge
Asking questions
about the moment
That was
disappearing unto the walls.
What is there to say
to a room that calls
Away the light of
reason into a torment
And urges to step
closer to the ledge
Where the spaces
between past and present wedge
Upon the mind’s natural
flow
Appalling the eyes
to see unfamiliar stays;
Believing that
windows and doors are ways
From where memories
move to and fro
Like breezes of
nuance moving across the field’s sedge
And with each empty
grasp the heart sighs
At the glooming of
the light;
Seeking the peaceful
touch of night.
For tomorrow blue
skies
Will stand in solemn
expanse and height
As the line of black
birds fly away from sight.
What moved me away
to the edge -
Will I understand
what it meant
To come to be where a
sinner falls.
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