My Soul's A Ruined Chapel Poem by Patti Masterman
My Soul's A Ruined Chapel
My soul's a ruined chapel
In tall grass and weeds,
In woods bright and dapple
My life's gone to seed.
My heart’s a drowned temple
In seaweed and pearl,
It’s idols all broken
And prayer wheels unfurled.
My life’s an old story
That children once knew,
And whispered at night
When candles were few.
My days are thin sheaves
Of a crop that once grew-
Now the gardens are dead,
And the harvest is through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 11:47:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
