Rain turned to ice,and lightning splintered, it splicedthe black sky, it seeped a bright white.All animals they fled,from the sky as it bled,pale death that fell veiling the night.
For those who sense and comprehend,They know that heaven is at hand;The river blue which stream and stream,It has the pictures of my dream.
The Rising Lines of Wonderment: Poetry
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For those who sense and comprehend,They know that heaven is at hand;The river blue which stream and stream,It has the pictures of my dream.
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