The land awoke today
bright and windless
to gaze upon a porcelain sun.
In love with light,
it shows once more,
those luminous shades,
of brilliant liquid color,
within its well-shaped orb.
It is a clear and selfish light,
that never waits to see,
its own flawed colors,
shattered as broken glass,
reflected in windows of poverty.
Alone this painted orb,
knows only of self-comforting,
and in its seclusion,
it will never know,
through either love or wisdom,
just how beautiful it can be.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 4:34 PM UTC
The land awoke today
bright and windless
to gaze upon a porcelain sun.
In love with light,
it shows once more,
those luminous shades,
of brilliant liquid color,
within its well-shaped orb.
It is a clear and selfish light,
that never waits to see,
its own flawed colors,
shattered as broken glass,
reflected in windows of poverty.
Alone this painted orb,
knows only of self-comforting,
and in its seclusion,
it will never know,
through either love or wisdom,
just how beautiful it can be.
