The Breath Of The Day (From, Even Though There Are No Reasons) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Silent ways of distances moments feel
The breath of the day and all its spaces
Presence of surroundings in touch and graces
Something from last night of dreams unreal

Some yesterdays glowing that goes still on
Trough transformations of its out and in
Footsteps of the deepest ways and its spin
Till chances have come through and once more gone

Mysterious encounter of a magical ring
Senses of rounds coming in breath of time
With immeasurable sense that goes again
The earth of each shadow that darkness’s bring
And rises through times flowing on prime
Like freshness water of mirroring den