True Finds
In love am I with a great deal of things
Of wonders on earth, of darker shadowy background
Of artists, of ghouls, of nature’s fools
Of genius soaked in all matter of internal sound
Who knows what cradles these concepts, what lies beneath the admiration
—the reality
The minute…disappointment—it is naught
There it is not until the light hits the bay
Every single detail displayed
And oh, how my judgment is frayed!
By your unfathomable beauteous words, by images I receive so absurd
I imagine lives untold—I fantasize a fib
And make out with it—TRUTH, with darkened veneration
Baffling me, filtering me with joy and mysterious longing
As if by heaven the song sung is from below
Rested on the meadows of our minds
And in our hearts
True…treasurable….finds…
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
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