Endless Songs Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

There is nothing in this world, life is lived alone in natural
circumstances, favored always above other alternatives.

Standing before the moon, daylight hours traipse slowly by,
carrying time.

Flitting endless songs to a beloved wind, blowing scents of
earthly life to nostrils, causing us to wish for the next
life.

Stranded no more on plains of remorse, always finding
meanings that can be understood and held close, no one able
to take them from you.