Aching to See

the first deep fire in the clouds,
day erupting into the textures of the sky
intricate whorls and twists and mysteries
I dive in with my eyes
Strain to behold each eddy,
feel each red and orange as it appears
savor each shadow frolicking with the light

I cannot.
I am too impatient,
And instead I miss precious minutes to rush from the building
And run silent into the sun
Trying not to disturb the vastness

I cannot take it all in! I cannot. Can. not.
And I close to the beauty as I try
Snapping shots, hoping to capture the impossible
When all I had to do is be still
And let my heart burst

Making Love with This, A book of Poetry by Ephraim Mallery

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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