Praying Mind Poem by Satish Verma
Praying Mind
The gnarled fingers
will retrieve the flowing
moon from the river.
Like bristlecone
you stand in hot desert to―
catch the setting sun.
Peace! where will
you find it in dust of
the halted moments?
Saturday, November 18, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/28/2024 3:58:17 AM # 1.0.0.1119
