Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Our Sister

There is nothing so beautiful in the world as the rising of the moon over mountains, reflected upon a lake as you greet it, except knowing that it reflects the light at the same time upon all those you love, close by or very far from you.

I would be that light upon her face,
I would be the face that reflects such light,
I would be the myriad stars wheeling about her,
and the myriad dreamers under her gaze.

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