
Marcel Wormsley
Briefly…

Briefly Things take shape Then disappear. When the eye blinks, The reverie is dead And new light becomes The angel in you. For a time, Then you are whisked away By gratuitous moments Undefined and barely in view. When I think of crying, Something awakens And you are there, Listening, breathing, A simple melody Exhorting me to rest Before you arrive again And I extend my hands To greet you Wordless.
Art: “The Three Candles” Marc Chagall
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