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Oct 2017
Silent, unexpected ripples
As the first flakes softly alight on the lake,
A crisp inhale with eyes closed
Followed by a joyous vaporization of cloud.
When vision flutters back into focus,
A spectacle ever-more lovely than the last.
The muffled crunching around the trail,
near-muted chattering of chipmunks,
windy flurries whistling then growing placid,
the softened screech of a hawk
subdued now to an awed whisper -
Mounting and falling like a Debussy.
Clearer and more humbly triumphant
than cathedral bells.

This suite - this bright panorama
Shows me to the brink of an elation within
And brushes my crystalline spirit.
It sings and I overflow -
Light pours drop by rapturous drop
From each eye.
Inktober Prompt: Screech
Rules: The poem is whatever comes out of the pen, no edits allowed.
Subconscious on Parade
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