ethereal, reality!


The dawn dipped in crimson light,
Ingress the morn,
the dark tousled night struts away,
cracking the meditative silence
into voices and noises
of frantic tweets, footsteps of calloused feet, holy bells,
anxious beats, wind chimes,
and gentle breeze.
It’s a panoramic view through the immortal street,
through which the life in its grey streaks constantly walk,
to reach the home called distant dream.

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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