Splendor

My thoughts surge in
Silent vibrations quiet
As morning splendor

Painted in streams
Of naiveté auspiciously
Surviving my old age

Common for eternal
Argonauts detached from
Deeply ingrained life or

Death narratives, but
I prefer the clandestine
Chasms hid between

Galaxies where dark
Matter tempts entry to
Ten mountains temple

© Rob Taylor 2018, Noesis 


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