Like a soaring line of light
In the waiting of the morn;
In the waiting of a dream
That would happen every night.
Like an impulse in the space
Starting once a timeless race
Like uranium's one gram
Bursting an eternal bam.
Like the spilling sound of dew
Falling on a thirsty leaf,
Like the angel's living song
To which most of us are deaf.
Like the vastness of the life,
Like...the everything.
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© Copyright: Михаил Фризен, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123013003224
Свидетельство о публикации №123013003224
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