Poetry

Circles (Candles, Chimes, and Matt’s Wonderment)

How certainly the angels dance!
The stretch of possibilities
I never fear; I see romance
Is candled in a wheel of brass.
I practice with a rosy hand
The whole of magic in my life.

The early arts I toddle through
(The chimes created out of light)
In later years will formulate
My thankfulness for gifts of gold.
But as I learn, I’m giving, too:
The child quickens in your soul.

(P.S. The wonder in a 3-year old’s hug – feel it)

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