I bless the day
I greet him,
his name is understanding,
falls from the rain,
into the well.
But none know the heart,
seek for comfort,
find everything is
goiing up yonder.
when it hover when you drink,
in sibblings of thoughts.
salt is the mine to rest,
when life is not always the best.
It quiver and stride,
and weary the clothes,
and sometimes think,
it can make you cold,
bring ice to your mouth,
paddle with no arms.
Alone you stand,
on thousands of sand.
There is a turn in every fork.
A line to walk,
even when you are old
and grey,
you have only yourself,
on your knees.
Where is your mission?
your call?
Your name?
What by your measure,
is the heaven of desire,
when patience is a pity,
to open the box,
the secrets of life,
who can charm.
His name is understanding,
to ring the bell...
in faith.
(155 Words)
|
Print this poem
Show the next latest work
