Complications arise in every supplication
I lack the insight to understand your ways
Like church bells standing steadfast and tall
Your eyes rise up to meet the skies

I yearn to share words and hold the hand
That guides the pen across the page
Ink flowing from the thinking-feeling minds
Of a world too often silenced

I see Emily in a skirt, dancing through the night
Oh, my Dickinson fantasy!
Let me help you pull the weeds from your garden
As I offer the words of a swollen sky
Watch them leap up onto your silver feet
In a frantic melody that pulses with life

They say that all good things must end
But I pray every single day
That your beating heart will keep burning bright
Forever illuminating your smile
Even when anguish tortures the soul

:: 03.29.2023 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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