This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best.
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
Written by:
Walt Whitman
Love the lighting
ReplyDeleteThank you, Tom.
DeleteComes together good, text and photo
ReplyDeleteI thought so, too. Thanks you, Peter.
DeleteNice variation in light
ReplyDeleteYes, it caught my eye. Thanks Peter.
DeleteNice poem and a very nice combination of lights.
ReplyDeleteYes, I though so, too ... Thanks Camellia.
DeleteI agree with everybody! Well done. Walt Whitman makes everything better.
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely, right! Thanks, Tom.
Delete