Things take shape
Then disappear.
When the eye blinks,
The reverie is dead
And new light becomes
The angel in you.
For a time,
Then you are whisked away
By gratuitous moments
Undefined and barely in view.
When I think of crying,
Something awakens
And you are there,
Listening, breathing,
A simple melody
Exhorting me to rest
Before you arrive again
And I extend my hands
To greet you

Art: “The Three Candles”
Marc Chagall

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