We quiet the boats motor,
Drift on the water’s acquiescence.
Silhouettes of the shore’s presence
Waver and reform, reach for my consciousness.
Soon enough the rising sun
Will direct others to adventures
That forestall their sharing this frozen moment.
It will last until I reach to explain.
It is strong beyond words
This opening to bliss.
The sky calls down, and angels support
An impossible myth:
Reality is redrawn as spiritual,
With no form by which Man is tempted
To search for knowledge.
Leaving only quiet.
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