- Books, Literature, and Writing
A smile is sometimes all I can see.
My face carries my sense in time and tune.
Hope is never gone as it will always be.
Take a look up high and see the moon.
The sky is merely a black canvas
A bitter wet wind blows as the trees crack
their fingers while air sings and makes them shiver
yet there is nothing senseful that they lack.
Looking at the ground, it's covered with leaves.
This grand canvas in the lunar landscape
is colored as a colossal abstract which weaves
hues by reflection in horizontal drape.
Clouds dance slowly in a dispersed
luminescent light is in a nascent trip
creating wayward ideas as they distort.
Shapes are lucidly playing a kind trick.
Everything stands still for a moment
as a orange halo seeps from the green hills.
The earth spin causes morning to be sent
as the colors dance and lightness fills.
A rarefied landscape sits in hopes
The dynamic mood never remains still.
Change is here and does not happen by chance
'cause smiles beget a beautiful will.