Mark Scrivener

Poetry Poems Original Verse

Sunday, April 26, 2015



Seeing is a touching.
To look towards blue, to glance
with eyes' intelligence
along a sun-etched cloud
is to fly
where light birds wander,
freed upon unbounded sky.

Vision is a travelling. To gaze
towards growing dusk, roving
to the rim of sight,
where earth shape meets sky space,
is to glide
across the curved earthface,
journeying with the fall of darkness.

Perception is connection. To see our star,
reddened and descending
behind the silhouettes of trees
that shiver with the day's last breeze,
is to ride
a fragment of the spiral of all time,
companioned by this wandering world;
is to see
Earth following its sun
through illimitable
regions of reality.


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