enduring process

empty as our street at midnight
nearly no noise coming up into the air
doing a call into this vision of the mind
using the concentration to construct a
red sky observation of wisdom and sagacious ways
if there is a time that is truly ours
nighttime is that time
gasping at the need to feel really complete
progressing to this
relishing the private time
on an occasion in this crowded world
clearing any conditions that stop relaxation
eloquent as a song written at three in the morning
some of my heat is absorbed by you
sometimes the morning lights up at midnight

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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