Grandeur, Not Omen

 

The darkness given off

by the shadows on the hills

calls the heart into a collusion

with wonder and suspicion.

Do they portend something 

more than the beauty they

cast across the surface of the 

earth and precincts of the eyes.

When do we read more into

what we behold; and, when 

is that the way to go.  For now

I’ll stop at grandeur not at omen.

And the river flows on by,

unaware of any hint of dilemma.

Grandeur, not omen.