Broken Wings

Against broken wings,
A scared face, Lift up again
As
I blend into 
the portrait
consumed with
Lucid images

where becomes when
Here becomes there

While God breathes
the forgotten Eden
into a spirit of one,
like a gentle whisper weaving through the trees,
binding essence to emotion,
creating a mosaic where meaning flourishes
and feelings intertwine,
awakening the soul to a vivid, living landscape

I begin to taste
what cannot be 
described
and see
what my eyes
have never known

The face glows with searing heat,
wings once shattered now soar,
a confession to time's evolution.

The light and darkness,
though opposites to my senses,
become the compass
pointing to where endings
give rise to beginnings.
Originality and finality
give birth to what
is
and will always be.