language stolen
LANGUAGE STOLEN FROM LEWIS GRANDISON ALEXANDER
Life goes by moving.
My soul is the wind
listening to the rain,
knowing not at all
how the nightingale sings.
I shall purchase my mood.
Did you say a sound?
Moon of today
my ears burn for speech;
they look at the white moon.
Is thought that is not thought
the poetry of life?
I swim down the stream
treading wearily
within the shadow.
My heart like a shell
is bathing in life's fountain.
I will wrap the song.
No words speak; otherwise
why should I wander?
Jerry W. Ward, Jr. April 25, 2021
LANGUAGE STOLEN FROM LEWIS GRANDISON ALEXANDER
Life goes by moving.
My soul is the wind
listening to the rain,
knowing not at all
how the nightingale sings.
I shall purchase my mood.
Did you say a sound?
Moon of today
my ears burn for speech;
they look at the white moon.
Is thought that is not thought
the poetry of life?
I swim down the stream
treading wearily
within the shadow.
My heart like a shell
is bathing in life's fountain.
I will wrap the song.
No words speak; otherwise
why should I wander?
Jerry W. Ward, Jr. April 25, 2021
Comments
Post a Comment