deepundergroundpoetry.com
Any Morning
A breath of branches
sway in sunlight.
What is left of yesterday's shade
lay shattered,
Scattered among pine needles and compost.
Am I some endless sky?
We peopled cities seek joy
in so many setting suns...
So many gaping flames, only to die.
A breathing of leaves drink in
morning's bright
Dew replete, a singing light.
Is there nothing left
but dawn?
sway in sunlight.
What is left of yesterday's shade
lay shattered,
Scattered among pine needles and compost.
Am I some endless sky?
We peopled cities seek joy
in so many setting suns...
So many gaping flames, only to die.
A breathing of leaves drink in
morning's bright
Dew replete, a singing light.
Is there nothing left
but dawn?
Published 5th Jul 2018
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There's sunset too.
The despondency of this was genuinely felt, along with the old addage, 'What's the point'. Especially when every morning seems the same.
Well done.
The despondency of this was genuinely felt, along with the old addage, 'What's the point'. Especially when every morning seems the same.
Well done.
10th Jul 2018 00:45am
I appreciate your comments as always, Ahavati.
The despondency in regards to the death chasing way of the world of humanity, is due to a glimpse of that higher life: am I some endless sky.
The despondency in regards to the death chasing way of the world of humanity, is due to a glimpse of that higher life: am I some endless sky.
10th Jul 2018 00:47am
