Aug 5, 2020
1 min read
Dialectic
A Sonnet
Orchestras of fire flies distill ancient waters,
whilst one’s vision is deceived by the imagery of modern man,
it is an occupied profession, to be present, to connect.
It is a normal phenomenon,
the light of the divine within the divine; yet, imperfect,
the light at the end of the tunnel where pupils dilate,
lone dialect, personally speaking of their emptiness.
