Confusion reigns, things fall apart
with focus gone, no place to start
the journey that must lead to path
where seed will die at first, and
then give rise to life’s new vision
beyond the thirst for recognition.
The tiny bird, that silent dove,
gives clue to way above the rush,
and wisdom’s call to stop and see
invites to not just do, but be.
And now the soul is free to fly
awake from sleep, to claim the sky.
voted 10..........forever.......wow is the word....read my poem called LET HER NOT SACRIFICE ANYMORE and rate it if you like....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Claiming the sky of the departed soul...touching philosophy...thank you