Friday, September 4, 2009

Dreams of a poet

Magicians of the wind
play with my fingers
I clear up my mind
but a thought lingers.

Light disappears into me
forests of rays lay bare
I glow like halo
an object of stare.

I weave the fabric 
and make fireflies 
wear it like the king
and flow to the skies.

I run into the stars
and they try to hold me
I turn into the waves
and they unfold me.

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