Like The World Getting Old Beneath The Dawn Poem by Miroslava Odalovic

Dresses of seasons are falling down
From behind the veils of summers winters autumns springs
Nothing has really changed
Between the borders of wars worlds words and warnings
No difference between those
Who still do not understand
And those who think
They got it all just right
Equally grasped in Love
And the all pervading mother Mercy
Against the Mother Courage Infliction
When the rivers of Babylon
Splash our tears again and again
Great worlds lost out little lives found
In the memories of Sion
Old sages growing their beards
Like the white rivers of eternal snow
Covering everything never to melt
Old sages with yellow golden sticks
Walking the same dry deserts
Of survival sagas sagacious
Singing songs of springs ever lost
And autumn breathing swaying the lungs
Hanging upon the last atom of air