Thursday, June 8, 2017

Give & Take


The most random growth
strikes me as superfluous
Beauty.
Look around;
Light, colors, temperature, 
                        and patterns too ornate
to recreate by free hand. Living proof.
I take it in too deep, bury stars under dust
And as ugly as I try
a mote may hope
to grow out of it.


Illustration from Patrick Moore's Watcher of the Stars in 16th century[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Gravitas

For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...