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  • John Silveri

Crystaline Halos

It is from Aspen to Annapurna

your optical phenomena turns ice crystals into illusion.

It is breeze which blew while the angelic fleck flew

freeing the foresight of your followers.

It is as if God made this magnificent masterpiece himself

with his crystal rainbow paint brush making every stroke perfect…

taking his time.

So everyone in the barren tundras all around are amused by

rainbow hoops that shine brighter than sun rays

beaming off of a chrome Dodge Durango.

It is fearing how something can be so beautiful come from

bitter arctic wastelands of icy nothings, diamonds in the rough.

It is frosty luscious layers of eye catching flushing forces

rowing the roots slow in the cold

giving me a warm feeling of security and comfort

Reminding me of the palm trees where I lay near radiating Quintana.

It is a bright diamond against dark cloth

desert in the ocean.

It is beauty abusing the eyes of the beholder

light pillars and sundogs which fall from Asgard.

Feeling righteous rays flying over an unlimited source of pointless sadness

reality will always exceed and overcome fiction.

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