Flying to Venice
The vision of far Venice rises high
Inside the mind, as Alps rise high with snow,
Rock, clouds, and glacier whiteness spread below.
The heart has opened up its mystic eye.
It pierces through the distance and the mist
Prophetically, more perfectly than lens
Of camera can, not struggling to cleanse
This city of its stains where rot has kissed.
.The beauty of decrepitude’s long times
….Is washed instead by waters of lagoon,
……Canal, and wave, and focused by a soft
Determination to ignore the crimes
….Committed in the city’s past—and tune
……The soul to praising cracking walls aloft.
Photo by Tom Podmore on Unsplash