written by: Deborah Joan Jones
And there was an observable glow around each poet as they spoke
A glow that did not merely remain clinging to their bodies
But co-mingled, bathing the whole room. Permeating each fiber, every mind and all nearby souls.
Their glow reached out the doorway on up the street and into the night
Creeping through keyholes, engulfing each building.
The glow rose within the vaulted ceiling of the poets’ room,
Rising up and out and on, soaring high above the buildings
Soon, it had blanketed the town, people in cars and beds
High up in the ether it met and melded with glow conjured by other kindreds
And very soon their collective, artistic glow had seeped through each crack and every crevice
Scaled mountains, swamped oceans; filling valleys full
Until it had reached every, single living thing, everywhere, across the lands
Leaving the whole, wide, world swaddled, touched, glowing with uplifting beauty.
Deborah Joan Jones
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