he looked at the infinite glory of the Sun
And the power of His supreme Love
As presented to his eyes
In forms of children shouting...clouting and mock fighting...
In the park...like living life as fun...
And the green staccato rhythm as implanted by the trees...
The Spring like an enchantress coming to his skin...
Cuddling with hope...
And joy...
he felt he had become
Another form...
A Prometheus?
Perhaps...
A tortured man
By Jupiter...
And
Also the man who had loved back Life...
A man who had seen the darkest of the dark
Enough
To see the heavenly spark...
A man who had seen Hope dying
Under a wreck of heavy ruin...
A death...
And rose from there only loving more...
he looked at the streets...
The roads...
And like a child
Born
Out
Of
A
Tortured Man
he nodded
And smiled...
And His glory
With which he felt reconciled
Only dropped joy more...
And he thought
It was time to break into a song...
A song...
For someone...
An Isabel perhaps...
An Isabel of his own...
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