In dreams, visions evolve:
one moment this,
and then the colors shift
and we are lost in some other world,
and, waking,
still imprinted with your love,
which colors thought,
we are encouraged --
as if we had been listening to your voice --
to let the colors speak through us,
through art:
they fly onto the page,
inviting us to balance;
to rise, and to converge.
* * *
1 comment:
Cool image. Very nice poem.
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