Epiphany
by M. N. Norton
Sunday, January 12, 2003
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Speak of my joy, oh haunted word
Praised thought which gives birth to feeling.
One moment comes, the earth is still
From the shadowed soul, awareness
In time, a rapture seldom known
Veiled gift lies in darkest night
Search ebon windows of my mind
Escape me, from my grasp once more
Yet muses dance inside the wall
Beckon thoughts of memories past
Light flickers, hope, inside me pours
Sun shines, I am ready, touch me
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