Bleeding Parts Poem by James McLain
Bleeding Parts
Choice is not the field of birth
some lost road, 'we try to pave.
Heavy burdens, heavens gate
when yoked upon, 'he said.
Outside, seeing up side down
key notes once strung, are played.
Inside looking out, lead glass
displays his heart.
Cistern made with clay in hand
to quench his dying thirst.
Elevation feelings part
the heart once fallen hence
today, my body calling out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/10/2024 7:18:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
