This Night, This Womb
Lanterns on a black canvas.
Fireflies dance, prance like ponies on a carousel.
Ricocheting cricket-squeaks,
Bounce among the frog-croaked airwaves;
Bouncing from one wet tip to another.
Spectral trees in the distance
Dance their ancestral dance to this music;
The heartbeat of the waves, keeping time;
natures’ metronome.
One hones the spirit to perfection here;
In the bosom of Mother Natures’ womb.
Touching life’s essence.
Feeding the soul on the nourishment of Gods’ artwork.
We never really leave the womb, you see.
We only re-position ourselves and dream yet, another dream.
No, we never really leave the womb.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2019
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