We are the everyday miracles
that people write off as ordinary: the over-played album, the cliches
of their lives. But we are not so,
As we inhale with hefty breaths the sun opening its irises,
a peachy-rosy swirl of fascination.
And every time it retires into slumberland,
where saunters in
the antiquities of the night.
They sparkle like the eyes of the youthful in wonderment
of the world around them.
that people write off as ordinary: the over-played album, the cliches
of their lives. But we are not so,
As we inhale with hefty breaths the sun opening its irises,
a peachy-rosy swirl of fascination.
And every time it retires into slumberland,
where saunters in
the antiquities of the night.
They sparkle like the eyes of the youthful in wonderment
of the world around them.
to_kill_a_mockingbird
dream..catcher..
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