W. Rod MacMasterson

Rookie (08-28-84 / A place where dreams reside)

Trance?

I look out each day upon Dawn
Wondering what this day will spawn
Perhaps today I will see a new light,
One which I did not see last night

Like arrows from quivers sparrows fly hither
I see them fly to so elegantly to and fro,
As though they're entrapted in a Dance,
A Dance, A trance of which I do not know.

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