HOPE

 

Stephen Gill

 

Through the cracks

in the crumbling walls of now

I grab

particles of the dust

from the diamonds of your

shoreless abode

of the fathomless bliss.

More than

the sweet sobbing melodies

the amaze of the amazing abode

of your calm grace

is to me.

Your recollection tiptoes

in the caves of my words

and

your sobering silence plays

with the lips of my thinking

 

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