Perfect Existence

a shooting star caresses
my vision of the evening sky
the big, round moon hangs steady
as if to hold the landscape in place

the ocean ebbs and flows its way
into the depths of my soul
permeating my abysmal
cavern of emotions

hauntingly beautiful whispers
echoing questions of existence
through the trees, ah the trees
they fill the space with swaying dance

hypnotic to the soul
my senses reeling in the majesty
I’m drunken by the passions of life
It’s 100-proof

but not fool proof
the life of a fool
is the life of Gods
perfect existence


Copyright © 1998 Brenda Barnhart