Transmutation of the mystery
(this life is)
Light glinting off a mirror
Something flashing
Wings, dreams, wishes
(birds of the air: that must
be what our souls are)
Strange beasts diving deep into the
sea (must be what our hearts do)
Spiders creeping into
slim crevices
(our thoughts move
without reason)
Magic of which we
know
nothing
Friday, April 2, 2010
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