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    Trancendence

Journal
 

 

There are no

Shadows here.

If I were only Dreaming,

but this could be no

dream of mine.

 

I would follow these

paths, to another

nightmare.

If I could not hear

these sounds, filling me

with Trepidation.

 

A song so sweet,

I cannot bear its pain.

Gentle touches upon

The leaves, bear witness

to the wings of heaven

A whispering breeze,

that touches my soul.

 

This is a language I

seem to have always

known. I could die

listening to its simple

chorus.

 

I could walk through

this dream,

Smiling,

Laughing,

Living.

 

I would kneel

And pray

For this to Be

No Dream of Mine.

 

 
Copyright © 2006- Teresa Rothman