A Page
Life is simply a page
a brief stage- markings on
the gauge of time
which neither rhyme nor
Supreme Sublime ever elucidate.
In the wait, the questioning
of great minds always fails
in the details of swirling wind-
strong gales, questions of belief,
blindness without relief, like
a thief in the night
undetected, without light
A slight silent awakening.
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