Nostalgia gripps my heart .
I will never see again
the great valley where I was born.
Wolves have no boundaries
except destiny ...
Grain of sand lost in the inexpressible
where the breath of the flute
is in unison with lament of the violin.
Journey through the wandering
of the living .
I am the people of the elusive dunes
contemplating the capricious dance
of the nebula .
The star of the dead watches over
the sleeping ridders who drink
the spring of eternity .
Shadows of heroes lurk ,
that the horses recognize and greet .
We are children of the relentless gallop ,
who dream of the roses of Esfahan .
Our story is to pursue this horizon
calling us at sunset over the great ocean..
Path, only made of long memory
in scorching seasons and brisk wind
that warms the blood ...
Bride of silence ,you have put
on your wedding garments .
The lute tells us the legends
of the ancients ...
Tomorrow ,only ambers of the camp
will remain .
abandonned to the chaotic order
of the dunes .
Inummerable faces whose language
speaks to us .
Bringing us ever closer
to the last departure .
where the steppe ends ,there is the way...
-
Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: December 9th, 2025 11:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell, Priya Tomar
Offline)
Comments4
Simple words come together to form a vast, imagistic epic. Impressive!
A grain of sand that aspires to the breath of infinity !
This has such a longing to it it seems a search and journey that travels far looking for a personal holy grail. Well done Lorenz
As long you haven't found yourself the journey doesn't end ...
Not yet. and you are so right
I try my best ..I am a young soul !
Life is not a straight path .
Nice poem about longing and journey of life .
We always leave something of our journey on the path...
I like this one!
The breath of the great desert spaces !
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