Talking to the wind
Heaven and earth,
Keep me well,
For I have not long to spare.
‘Tis fleeting my appearance here,
As I cross the wooded bridge.
Splinters catch my feet;
Caught in ivy binds,
And for a moment
I am smiling broad,
As I savour earth’s embrace.
But heaven calls
From beyond the seas,
Within the clouds,
And olivine painted trees,
With resonant stress
Upon my name,
Weighing heavy as the sun;
And I urge my legs
To wander on,
Giving thanks to all I pass.
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Reblogged this on IshaiyaFreshlySqueezed.
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Well, this is a nice poem.
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Thank you Noel 🙂
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Most welcome.
Hope you have been well
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As well as can be. I hope life is finding you well?
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Oh yes, I am doing well
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I’m glad to hear it.
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This is lovely. I hope you’re being philosophical here. 🙂 Feels very akin to the Romantic period.
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What do you mean philosophical?
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As opposed to literally having not long here.
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Continued life is never a certainty, and I wasn’t being particularly philosophical.
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