I have asked the wisest
men and women
about these small things.
Some stare me down,
...
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And then there was only yellow light where she had just stood in her summer loveliness. I was bereft, but in my hands was the 'The Book of the Sun'. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Don't stare at my face, Daniel. Look deeply within. Poetry is not the surface of things, it is.... ' - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Your poems carry the deep impressions of your insight.
Sigh.....just beautiful Daniel. Poetry is deep, personal and unique journey as we evolve spiritually. I love this poem.
The Book of the Sun' by Marsilio Ficino. - I didn't read it. will try to find! yellow light - again. It means smth special to you!
Daniel, this is a fascinating series in which you seem to be blending fantasy with reality. And you're really educating me. I'll have to do some research on Ficino. He seemed to be a very fascinating person.