Origin Of The Flame...3* Poem by elysabeth faslund
Origin Of The Flame...3*
'Kyrie Elieson' chanted winds to water...
Strangled muffled-silent bedrock
When, manacled and shackled, it screeched,
'I will become...
The lifting rock, sightless,
In mist-flown premonitions.'
One heard...one saw...
Searing, scraping talons
Raking years in sacrifice for
'Christe Elieson...'
Winds did not pray
Upon waves this day...
For the Dragon
Knew thirst.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 11:15:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Wagnerian in its scope and the breadth of its vision. A wonderful poetic ride! love, Allie xxxx