I love these pictures. Words seem inadequate; but that is why we have poets:
A Clear Midnight
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou
lovest best,
Night, sleep, death and the stars.
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