the silent grave
swept clean by time,
knowing only the wind
that undresses the night.
the eyes of an owl,
dead branches walking...
moonlight and darkness
thrust and parry, and dance.
the smell of damp earth,
the kingdom of spider and snail...
moss and vines wrapped
around the throat of time...
no footprints, no memories,
no flapping of wings....
the unnamed hand covers
all trace, all thought....
all that which was urgent,
eternal... of universal need...
becomes small and insignificant...
in the silent grave!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So true, so true my friend! I love this write for its imagery and deep content! 10+++ Keep inspiring the World with more of your well and thought provoking writes! Love and Peace for always! Romeo from New York City! ...