Risen
The River flows to Your Oceans...
The Mountains risen without Notion.
The Sunlight in My Eyes';burning...
The Ground motionless;not turning.
I walk,I stand,I sit,and still...
I can capture A bird flying at will.
I hear You;but You can't hear Me no longer...
The moon still out by light;imprisoned.
Then at that Moment.I too become Risen.
Copyright © Charlene Wilcox | Year Posted 2014
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