I have just visited love.
somewhere in vast time
above, below, and then
a white-light shed life!
a something through tinted
eyes as deep as six floors
and then I stepped into life.
And that flutter-seasoned
simple-lips she cried.
I begged to cross the street
all of me cried. The grass
of paradise too high!
And dreams grow forward
and so up into the skies
then leap from one another!
So the dead may lay dying
floating high, still higher!
A face of mortal yearning.
In the pale-drained yielding sun
we create hues of stained glass.
I stepped down upon the world
and met my mortal life.
:: 02-05-2015 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 