Contemplation
We stand mute! No words can paint such fragile imagery, Those prismic gossamers that roll Beyond the sky-line of the soul; We stand mute!
Georgia Douglas Johnson
We stand mute! No words can paint such fragile imagery, Those prismic gossamers that roll Beyond the sky-line of the soul; We stand mute!
The speaker describes a moment of awed stillness, standing silent before something too delicate and luminous for language. Those “prismic gossamers” feel like thin, rainbow-tinted threads or images drifting just past the edge of inner understanding—beyond the “sky-line of the soul.” The repetition…
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