She sleeps
She sleeps
holding night
in her hands,
still, in her lap,
her breathing soft,
rocking gently,
silently,
upon the train,
as night passes
in glowing,
glimpses
of light,
whilst outside,
the rushing shadows,
race and hurry,
with time herself
passing by,
but so still
she listens,
and dreams,
the evening long,
the song
of her journey,
longer,
resting the twilight
of a passing day,
and in those
preciousness
of memories,
lifted almost
to the sacred,
the beautiful blue
of her summer skies,
her face
slowly, gently
softens,
opens,
to the invisible wishes,
the coming hush
of a welcoming night,
And then,
there comes a flurry
of invisible blossoms,
the precious time
of moments,
a hundred,
a flood,
of midnight stars,
for she smiles
in her sleeping
in constellations,
the most beautiful
the light,
the life
of resting,
her face
the mirror,
of a flower
of light,
for the world
inside.
Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me feedback!
p1964km@googlemail.com
