Monday, July 2, 2007

"Mourning Man of the Fields"

Searching the treetops rain or shine
My search continues to be world wide
Of course it is for my heart that long ago died
Whilst my brothers who had not yet
Experienced their own puberty
In its yolk the embreo remains unaware
Blood runs coldly from the sunlight
No longer do I acknowledge sounds
Of the crickets
Even when it rains and is accompanied
By frogs whom I used to love
There is no room left in my library
Books upon the shelf will gather dust
Many of them do not contain any words
Unless I decide to allow it to enter
In which case all things return to me
Momentarily there is a hush amongst the reeds
While they allow the wind to pass
It is on the way to other realms
That stretch beyond horizons
Which have not yet been assigned
They are in the blackness of white clouds
That remain concealed for all eternity
Even flies dare not enter
They fear the ceasing of a beating pulse
As do I in unison with the fly
My journey continues in search of
Unicorns that continue to evade me
It is true that every cloud
Has a silver lining
But I am not satisfied
Of course it is over my heart
That long ago died

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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