For some people, the past is an endless chain
of one dark opening to the next in another
their days pass freely with no history to record or set them free
and their tomorrow is a constant ringbolt of slavery to their yesterday.
I never wish to belong there since i have a blithe spirit
and although life seems to flash before my eyes
I choose to record this moment, beneath the pale-salted moonlight
with pure pleasure i rest my eyes frozen from bruised experiences.
The moon is slivering smoothly and tentatively through the trees and leaves
it is shining a luminous light outing on all the darkness around
it feels like a little moment in eternity that could never be replaced,
and my vision is growing from inside out as time stands still.
The sounds of my breath are slowing and thinning out in air
this moment is as light as air escaping in form of small molecules
the silent night appears mysterious in its tenderness and clarity
and the silence of the panoply of stars makes this moment irreplaceable.
Towards the ending of the night curious hollowness engulf me
the certainty of it all is making the essence of this slowly slip away
but because neither the moon nor the stars are fading away
enthusiasm and delight are starting to warm my feathery heart.
Reblogged this on Aston kamunde.
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