We are immortals until we die
When our final breath leaves with a sigh.
Our last cuss, sworn
No more we see the dawn
Our bodies abandoned, just lie
Soul set free to fly.
Like a bird, take flight
Into darkness or light?
Advertisements
Life
All posts tagged Life
We are immortals until we die
When our final breath leaves with a sigh.
Our last cuss, sworn
No more we see the dawn
Our bodies abandoned just lie
Soul set free to fly.
Like a bird, take flight
Into darkness or into light?
A Balloon’s Life II
Once I floated high, free
Full of self
Drifting contently
Carefree life
Inflated, never dated
Not deflated
A joy
To girls and a boy
Bringing smiles to faces
As I drift to many places
Earlier today at a wedding
A couple, pledging
A tiny hand released us
Not with a fuss
But with wonder, a little sigh
As we headed high
Into a deep blue sky
Floating forever onward
Over trees, a songbird
Brought up, to a sharp halt
A single branch ensnares
End of journey?
End of life?
No more smiles!
But no!
To a leafless tree, tied
To adorn,
And bring a rye smile
From a soulless entity
To photograph,
To share with others
Hoping to elicit
A final smile.
Full of self
Drifting contently
Carefree life
Inflated, never dated
Not deflated
A joy
To girls and a boy
Bringing smiles to faces
As I drift to many places
Earlier today at a wedding
A couple, pledging
A tiny hand released us
Not with a fuss
But with wonder, a little sigh
As we headed high
Into a deep blue sky
Floating forever onward
Over trees, a songbird
Brought up, to a sharp halt
A single branch ensnares
End of journey?
End of life?
No more smiles!
But no!
To a leafless tree, tied
To adorn,
And bring a rye smile
From a soulless entity
To photograph,
To share with others
Hoping to elicit
A final smile.
Good Morning from Exmoor.
This Exmoor pony was full of bounce , he and his twin rushed around the moorland, scenting the morning air. I watched, fascinated by their antics and the joy of their play when for one , long, moment, he stopped.
“Ah love! Could thou and I with fate conspire to grasp this sorry scheme of things entire! Would not we shatter it to bits – and then re-mould it nearer to the hearts desire!”
Omar Khayyam
Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!
William Blake
