We dwell in half-light, disbelief,
a frenzied puzzling over things,
while ghosts draw close;
cloak themselves in flesh
to speak a word.
Our hearts,
more furtive, invisible,
disclosing less than silence,
do not decry
from their indifferent posts.
They have no stake.
Only sometimes strange wonders stir our sleeps,
and for those moments we seem to awaken.
Light breaks the sky
and beauty is miraculous.
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