Speechless

speechless among the flowers without language to convey
what happened to me tomorrow, what will happen yesterday

for yesterday’s events are fodder for today, for those who saw
and for those who heard, the speechless stumble

and it is true, we are strobed for Emanation to a degree
but at what cost? And who will be there to cry, or see?

I have done the research, and have not even come close
to learning how light emanates from heaven, into humble

Without Light I just wilt. I sigh. I cry. I wither away
to dust unsaid, to particles unknown, to yet another day.

If they saw its magnificence they would name it Divine.

 

 

 

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