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.