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Soft little bubble glowing brightly on the bedroom floor.
In the dark shadow of the early morning peeping shyly.
Dancing in the corner like a delicate flower of light.
Glittering, flickering, sparkling like a brilliant gem.
Snuffing out, relighting, fading then shining strongly
like a spotlight beaming past the veil against it.
The blackout curtain imperfectly drawn against the intrusion.
Protecting the world inside from the tiny heaven spark.
Reaching in from a fiery source 1 Earth's Orbit away.
Cracking the barrier against the 4th dimension at its weakest point.
Breaking through the darkness of the new day's dawn.
Disturbing the sleepy reality as morning progresses.
Bobbling across the floor like a wobbling balloon
Flaming with a growing intention from the simplest photon.
Filling the room with its awesome power ...
Chasing the darkness away.
Can we?
Can we still hear?
Asking the Question,
Can Everybody Still Hear?
We can!

Do we?
Do we still care?
Knowing the Answer,
Does Anybody Still Care?
We do!

Will we?
Will we still go?
Daring the Odds,
Will Somebody Still Show?
We will!

Shall we?
Shall we still dance?
Taking the Chance,
Shall the Children Still Dance?
We shall!

Might we?
Might we still've time
Robbing the Hall Clock,
Might the Fiery Hell's Bells Still Chime?
We might!
Cinquain Poem. 5 Stanzas. Attempted Syllable Count: 2, 4, 6, 8, 2
In the long ago past ancient timeline,
A maritime mirror shined bright like glass.
A Cross reflection above the treeline.
Division between like a deep abyss.

Surface tension broken with just a touch.
Stepping out onto on top of the brine.
Moving Minds;Disturbing Thoughts;Did So Much
Don’t worry Child, You did it All just fine.

Passing beneath, under the overpass,
After walking thru a long dark tunnel,
Finally reaching Critical Mass; Then
Rose up high, airborne in a cloud funnel.

For you and I, He gave his life: He died.
Rising again revived; the Son survived.
I'm unsure if the title should be something else; Suggestions?
Shakespearean Sonnet Form, 10 syllables per line
abab; cdcd; efef; gg
Walking down a long lonely road
Ever closer nearing the edge
Stepping out off the gravel grade
Walk along right next to the ledge
Saw a cross above the treeline
After traversing the dark tunnel
Passing beneath the overpass
For you he gave his life; He died

Smooth water across was like glass
Tension broken with just a touch
Divide between; a deep abyss
Moving disturbing did so much
He stepped out on top of the brine
Don’t worry child you did it well
Nobody there gave a Rat’s ***
He rose revived the Son survived

Touching the surface a clean slate
Dip it in deep creating wake
The sky a perfect reflection
Send out ripples filling the lake
Long ago past ancient timeline
Rose up high in a cloud funnel
Finally reached critical mass
Emerging on the other side
Ballade form ... not sure if it's done correctly, seems confusing, 8 syllables per line
Entities of Reality stalk haunt humankind
Teasing unmercifully promising in person
A plain brown package; The Mind’s Eye;  Pandora’s Box.
Desire disguised as a need, want, or a trophy.
Consciousness trying to escape the emptiness.
It doesn’t matter;  How can we rise above, transcend it?

It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to the same place someday.
It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to Heaven anyway.

The tears won’t stop?  Call them Tears of Joy;  Gratitude.
Make promises to get what you want, then wait to see.
Pretend to be Happy;  Joyful;  Hiding the Pain.
Make jokes!  Laugh your way through the heartache!  Look happy!
Want it?  Take it!  Don’t look a gift-horse in the mouth!
Feeling guilty about it is unproductive.
Saving Grace;  Just Passing Thru;  Get Out of Jail Free!
It doesn’t matter;  Unconditional Forgiveness.

It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to the same place someday.
It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to Heaven anyway.

Despair, Distress, Hopelessness;  An Undeserved Mess!
What’s in it for You?  Recognition?  Salvation?
Generosity;  Curiosity;  Doesn’t Pay!
Return it!  Get a Refund!  Just use it, don’t buy!
Redemption; Reconciliation; Justified;
It doesn’t matter;  Give it back: Return To Sender

It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to the same place someday.
It doesn’t matter;  We’re all going to Heaven anyway.
A Devil's Advocate Prose rant combining a Bop & Anaphora; 12 Syllables per line
Paint drips disguise and
obliterate lies like ink-
daubed tattoos on eyes
fooling unconditional
considerate conviction.
Tanka Style Poem 5-7-5-7-7
In the cupboard, baby sleeps
dreaming softly of
World Peace, Love, and Happiness.
Haiku Poem 7-5-7
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