December 2011
I
O'er the desert, in the rain,
Prayers scar the light of blue;
flows their bleeding, as one stain,
dies their singing, as one lue.
II
And all is hill, the lives are host,
While flowers spring their soul,
Hope is Beauty, Life its frost;
Love is Grace, and Claim its foul.
III
Alas! Despair'd by hopeless mirth,
Confer'd on seek in vain, but glow,
at Earth, at Nature with no birth,
And brighting high, living below.
IV
The Horizon seizes sunrise's lust,
The Roamer's trace in hoary lies:
His walks arise th' immortal dust,
His secret rays the boundless skies.
Copyright © Arthur Plisenhayer | Year Posted 2015
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