When Crystals Are Dropped

When crystals are dropped from the Heavens-

And in that time, the glory reverberates

Echoes in silver tones-

From a master craftsman, tools less than physical,

The ashes of a sunburnt heath

Are removed,

And running fingers take the spherical heart,

Sending reminders in those clouds,

White-based as if inimitable in paint;

Like the curve of the sea, they cannot

Be called again, revolving phasors;

Without his Word, they take the Form of nothing,

Wherein, no Platonic Good can caress their

Serene intellect- even through the glassed ceiling.

An explosion of the fulminous occurs,

It ages out the refraction of the stars,

Like night-drops with resonance between the Earth

And Mars, but little less

Than drops that tell of the aptitude of high

Can divine perception reiterate

Along the boundary, shimmering water beheld,

And in the water a reflection finally lies,

The embrace, a cold touch of truth and desire,

Combination both bold and chilling,

Where its enlightenment comes with splendour

Such as this, the droplet-beauty decorating lands,

Coat and dressing of a summer’s mystery,

The midday midnight cast through invisible panels;

For when tears are the lay of sight,

Magnificence difficultly is understood by

Mere mortal morals;

And stand alone in the rain as it pours down,

Leaving slivers of the sky in this set,

Swelling puddles beating.

The End

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