Mosaic

Moon gazes fondly at frolicking oceans,
mosaicked with pieces of our ancient sky,
Still like a painted glass globe, with a heartbeat
like thunder that echoes with secrets of storm.

Mirrors that tremble with undrowning sunsets,
with winds that ring distant of unbroken dreams,
smoulder like memory, still, unforgotten,
when crayon sketched mountains crave skewed yellow suns.

Stars love like silence in soft, hollow darkness
between newfound wonder and forgetfulness,
the Love that carves time into crystals of ever
where our flawed and broken hope ever resounds…

T. E. Pyrus

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