Monday, May 30, 2011

A Painting, Unseen.

An abidance to truths unseen, unjustified
but with all of one's heart
encapsuling all that there is to yearn
all that there is to be desired.

Like fine grains of sand
heaped into small mountains
majestic, yet at the gust of a wind
they all submit.

Heaven upon this world
lies between your brows
where it crease with worry
when you think of me.

I am the Sea, the Trees, the Dust
swim in me, grow with me, fly
Don't worry about invisible things
close your eyes and trust.

Always beautiful
what we could dream up
you and I.
Like a painting, unseen.

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