Orbuculum
Some moments are phantoms
Disappearing swiftly without a sound
Inaudible traces
In colourless, restless surround
Others are goddesses
Wise and beautiful reminders of light
Subtle, sweet graces
Of all the grandeurs of life
A few are glass mirrors
Seemingly stable with reflective hues
Until the dust of time, quiet, settles
Both obscuring and revealing what's true
|