The tides in,
A sun setting,
On warm sand,
With birds singing.
No more confusion,
Just a simple heart,
For which is seen,
A work of art.
Not seen by a mind,
Only felt by the one,
Stillness in a moment,
Silenced from the sun.
The sky breaths,
With a whispering wind,
With a sun that's set,
On an ocean filled with stars.
Purity in the moment,
Stillness of oneself,
A very telling story,
Of a lover and itself.
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 5:51 AM UTC
The tides in,
A sun setting,
On warm sand,
With birds singing.
No more confusion,
Just a simple heart,
For which is seen,
A work of art.
Not seen by a mind,
Only felt by the one,
Stillness in a moment,
Silenced from the sun.
The sky breaths,
With a whispering wind,
With a sun that's set,
On an ocean filled with stars.
Purity in the moment,
Stillness of oneself,
A very telling story,
Of a lover and itself.
Request permission to use this poem