And so encircled this sphere turns
That which by its nature casts both aspects of silhouette
And crumbling in atrophy sprouts forward freshly birthed
Where cool essential nectars hiss against consuming flame
And the breath connecting all dances over dense fertile bedding
Upon which the path that winds with blindness always ahead
And the draw that tugs away from the soaring expanse
Or the blended gaps between one world and the next
Sing cacophony or symphony or gulp in draughts of silence
Swallow prisms sweet salted bitter and bland
Yet change meaning when sharpened roughened or soft
This circle returns dependent on perpetual balance
The sum and mere representation of its sphere
A shadow and its caster in harmony of a single tone
And so encircled this sphere turns
Written by W. C. McClure www.wcmcclure.com. This poem may be shared (and please do); just please be sure to share it in its entirety, unaltered (and including this fine print), with credit given to W. C. McClure. Comments are welcome at www.farsideofdreams.com. Oh, and if you want to show your support, tell your friends about this short story blog – and pick up a copy of “The Statues of Azminan” by W. C. McClure. Thanks!
I love this multi-dimensional poem!
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Thank you!
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