A Spectramatic Perception Poem by Paul Moosberg
A Spectramatic Perception
All is dark, no choice exists
Start a spark, creating bliss
Run its light, from that to this
Perimeter, created bliss
Growing now, to shine on out
Showing how, it comes about
Paths of past, in bliss to shout
Light will show, to come about
Light is fastest always strewn
In the smallest darkest room
Across the universe’s gloom
Light is leaving every room
If you had any doubt that you are a genius, reread this poem. I fear you may be the reincarnation of William Blake. Just speculation, but the poem would have been claimed proudly by that visionary.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 1:02:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Many of your poems leave my head spinning. Truly Paul, the most interesting and unique writing I've seen in so long. Great work. sincerely, Mary