Sunday 8 November 2015

Doing Wonders

[For the Love of Poetry] Croxt:

Shaded whispers and printed conversations, the pictures we seek when it gets complicated. The swallows are huge and the shallow waters are sinking. Can you hear the thunder shaking? Reminding me that there are things am yet to understand. Yet, I do not fear the wailing or the drunken man's slurs. I do not feed on the fears of the soul-tired man or the heartbroken maiden. I give them hope. See the colours dance in the rainbow, a place they belong. See the clouds gather high up in the sky, a home for them to dwell. The rituals of the night have been performed and the dust has settled. The bats have come out to feed and now it's time for us to sleep. But to do wonders, you have to do more than just sleep. You wake up to the tune of ambition and driven motivation. You reach there. And it's wonderful all the way. The clouds stand above the fields that truly need to be quenched and snow falls on sins that need to be covered. So we stay searching; Google is my friend.

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