art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
How Shadows Fall
have ever you thought that the only way by which we see any thing at all is just in how shadows fall? the mountain peaks when dark is cast; a crowd of weathered faces; the creaséd brow: a cross-hatched map of low, lost places; valleys of earth in glorious relief; Heaven's light by Eden's grief. Un- tou - ched by rad- iant caress, as yet those darkest spots a l o n e do let one see the form of things at all - yes, what's seen is all in how shadows fall. the secrets of the world, untold are there beneath shade- wing's fold, and one who squints, long enough, there, will find the aching myst'ry's call, in the waiting air, in how shadows fall.
By Gabriel Huizenga11 days ago in Poets
