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How It Is
How it is
A templed pool of water
Mirrored deep, blue, and calm
Silence surrounds and hushes all things
The canopy extends to the sky above
to which only stars shine
The room is warm in the air
rising beyond its reaches
having no wind best it.
Delicate strands hold this in place
Fresh not tampered, unchanged
Cannot be touched by mortal man
Saintly, angelic, and pure
Never to be tainted;
a child's dream.
Written November 29,2012
poem
by
Ryan Collins
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