“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label calling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label calling. Show all posts
Sunday, March 31, 2019
a lone path way
some thing stirs
out there
with out us
with in
we name hope
hanging on
be came
pulling up
our gaze
only then
some thing
in finite
may be
seen.
Photo credited by Carol M. Highsmith, Santa Catalina Island, 2012 in [Public domain].
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