The words I learned
to live by
and to die by
are all short and small -
in time of flood
an ark,
in time of drought
a spring;
a dove, a tree,
a lyre that sings;
cells that shape
the voice, the call;
cells that form the one,
the keys to all:
love hope heart soul
god life child world
sky earth air sea
salt blood wine bread
gift nest home warmth
birth breath bird free…
hate war death grief
thirst waste ash greed
dark pain cold lies
arms wounds fear need…
spring seed growth leaf
peace grace praise tree
joy rain truth light
wheel flame path rite
sun moon day night
faith love star flight
Now I give them,
fresh and new -
the song you make
is up to you…
*This is an experimental poem.
Every word consists of only
one syllable, and the
associations between words
have been left open.
Source
© Copyright: Jena Woodhouse, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104071700172
Свидетельство о публикации №104071700172
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