The Secret Splendour

Night has its wakefulness

When space is all dark—

 An opening of myriad eyes,

Spark on pale spark

Watches the unlimited

Waits for the unknown.

They mirror a future

Of potencies sown

In hours of dreaming

When the soul is alone

With the sky's far mysteries

Of flights unflown.

 He who can capture

The flutter of those eyes

In a twinkle of hear -beats

Prepares paradise.

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