Saturday, October 29, 2011

a clear midnight

  • *

  • This is thy hour O soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
    Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
    Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best,
    Night, sleep, death and the stars.

  • *

  • ~ Walt Whitman

    1 Comments:

    Blogger Michael D (Wryter) said...

    Oh thy soul!
    To thine own flight of fancy, how you scatter away from me!
    Come back, come back!
    Spire in those ripe books of pondering words!
    Emerge from those gazing stars. . .silent, if need be, but emerge nonetheless!
    Run from me nevermore!
    Bringeth thou love to this disenchanted door!


    Yeps.

    11/01/2011 3:13 AM  

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