The wind races round trees
& scatters leaves;
I hear it cry
for a lost beloved.
That fox on the beach one early morning
emerging out of the
purplest sea heather,
frozen for an instant
then evaporating like mist.
What else are we here for?
A random chance,
a vast, indifferent universe.
To leave five
senses behind
& transcend
language
& turn my attention towards
more heavenly matters.
To seek beauty,
to forget time,
to be alone,
or endlessly with my lover.
The flash of rain,
the sparkle of sunshine.
Can I leave a little part of myself
where I have been?
-
Author:
rebmasters (
Offline) - Published: November 5th, 2021 03:46
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
Offline)
Comments3
Beautiful writing … with such sadness . I like your talk of nature .
Can't you sense the presence of those who did before what we do today in those places which take the mind to where it will go..... yes, we leave behind a part of the spirit of our souls and take away knowledge of the ethereal.
Very nice.
life is that part left behind,
a voice, a shadow, the sense of belonging
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.