Another Morning Poem
the thing you most long for
and the thing you most fear
the same, God
she is a bird
winging above the autostrade
a road in Italy that curves
into heaven
the smell of mint
recalls childhood
shadows on a wall
grandmother is visiting
already a ghost
she brings pennies
she lands on your ear like a moth
leaving dust
6 comments:
Rilke said to ask yourself if you would die if not allowed to write. maybe my body wouldn't, but my soul would
I agree with you...
The poem is awesome!
CHEERS!
Dulce
xo
Wonderful poem. Expressing yourself is one half of life. the other is learning from what has been expressed.
thank you sweet dulce. anthony, i find your comment profound. don't know if this is what you meant, but it is magical when something we have expressed - a poem - can teach us something about our deepest self - and life - i believe the muse is wiser than we know
You are indeed a joy to read and please never stop writing keep that soul alive.
Ralph, you are one whos soul is keeping my soul alive...you must keep writing also...
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