Only where the cliffs do battle with the raging tides,
Does the ocean scatter; Foaming white with sigh.
Only when the moon is ambitious enough to goad,
Are we gifted with nasma; To night-sky sun be sewed.
The coldest days of winter come right after the fall,
Everything a cosmic jest, the single traps the all.
And so it is with prayer.
Only through awe and fear,
Can we squeeze sacred starlight,
From out between our ears.
-
Author:
Quemis (
Offline) - Published: May 30th, 2022 20:44
- Comment from author about the poem: ...
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
Offline)
Comments2
Nicely penned
Thank you poet!!
what choice wording, such a beautiful read
I'm so happy
that you seem to have
such a strong anchor
for hope, in your life..
thanks for sharing, dear Poet
Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.
Thank you.
ah... just like the rest of us then
all good, dear poet
some, is always better than none!
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.