In My Waking Hour
A perfect tranquility broken by the closing of a door.
What tranquility was that?
What could it have been other than the undistorted vision of a soothing breeze grazing the backs of my fingers.
Like a cleansing wave of sunlight, erasing the burden of so many complicated undertakings.
Focus and clarity my allies, as a suspended peace wells inside.
I see the sparkling of a silent crystallized paradise, shimmering in a reflected symphony of light.
I hear rightly the devoid chord of a million falling individualities, steadily blanketing under the cover of a clear night.
And then, the door closes, and my paradise falls forever away.
I will cry snowflake teardrops this night.