Am i not amazed
By your red primer-
Hung like berries all over me?
And
That white grazing dream
Of a mare
Coming every moment near...
Closer...
As if that pasture even
Had all of my sense...
Your captured heart
And me captive soul
Joined by music
Of a Holy day...
And me graze
And gaze...
Perhaps you too
Same you do...
A Connect
Without any mortal visible thing
But still we sing...
Joined invisibly by Him...
Holy...
Pristine...
Primordial...
A sense of a Being...
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