The Joy of the Fall
The joy of the fall was to fight in the late of night.
For here, no ones there, yet, you.
Inside the dream I could imagine a scene,
Realer than the realest real,
Closer and nearer, feeling God.
The skins I could see and touch,
The smells of the surroundings huddled up.
Focusing instinct beyond lines formed,
Creating pictures that bring me joy,
impressing the Earth as I stand heir.
The joy of the fall was to fight in the late of night,
For here, no one's there, yet you in sight.
Inside the dream, I could imagine a scene,
Realer than the realest real, serene.
Closer and nearer, feeling God’s hand,
The skins I could see, the touch so grand.
The smells of the Earth, surroundings huddled tight,
Instinct sharp, beyond formed lines sight.
Creating pictures that bring me joy,
Impressing the Earth as I stand, heir to the soil.
For in this moment, the dream and is I aligned,
Claiming my place, by divine design.
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Th ethereal natural dreams grounding force into presence, tying it to my connection with the Earth and the divine.
voice
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