The Ark Poem by THEO RAY

An ark filled with gold,
the heart is still,
but beating cold.


-A chance to be wild,
through the forest,
laced with snow.

An ark filled with gold,
a greater truth bestowed....
of true joy,
from nature,
my humble
abode,
and off...
I humbly go,
the black bird,
on the bough,
perched,
for a minute
or so,
winter's beauty,
atoned,
it's cruel face
upon that day,
did not show,
upon this path,
I took alone,
no judgement
cast,
like a
stone.