We cannot say
from where we've come
or where we're bound.
That which is lost
will yet be found.
Above this earth
we take our flight,
into an endless,
starry night.
This poem isn't really my style--I don't often write rhymed verses these days. I was looking at the photo (which I had just made) and letting myself be open to the impressions, which I wrote down as they came to me. So I'd have to say that the poem came "through" me, rather than "from" me.
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This poem isn't really my style--I don't often write rhymed verses these days. I was looking at the photo (which I had just made) and letting myself be open to the impressions, which I wrote down as they came to me. So I'd have to say that the poem came "through" me, rather than "from" me.
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