In the center
of the world
lies a boy
mop of curls
stardust in his eyes
a rose in his sigh
curled like a dream
or a thought
or ice cream
he sings
and the earth
turns round.
Deep in the ground
shining strong
in the warm
of milky way
dreams
in the center
of things
I found him awake
when I tunnelled down
low when despair
took my wings.
He sang a swift song
turned me upside-down
showed me a cut
on his knee.
He laughed at my tune
gave me a moon
his smile brought
such peace to me.
The roots all know
where flowers grow
and bloom when the
little boy sings.
Curled like a dream
or a thought
or a king
he’s deep in the
center of things.
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So lovely! The part “curled like a dream or a thought” and the way it’s repeated at the end–perfect.
Thanks! I’m glad you found some loveliness there. =)