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Photo by Roven Images on Unsplash

The Mystic Phantasm

Glowing, scintillating, mysterious — it came.
It dazzled and confused me.
Scattering, showering, radiating flame
It ignored my plea:

To hold you for an instant, though short that instant be;
To understand how distant
Your aura is from me!

Then suddenly, rotating around its vibrant core,
It burst into a shower of manifold, bright hues.
Swirling and spinning through Eternity’s door,
It beckoned, I answered. How could I refuse!

To catch but a glimpse of thee
Is sufficient for any and all.
But a peerless fruit from Rapture’s tree
Is to answer your alluring call.

Whirling, throbbing, pulsating — it continued.
And then, an instant, shattered,
The very next, transiently renewed;
My presence, its being had scattered!

Ah, then how remorsefully
I watched thee fade and fail!
And with a parting, gradually,
Deep darkness then prevailed.

Omnivorous lover of life with interests from poetry/literature and science to geopolitics, health and art. IFB.

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