New born child
playing with eternity
as if it were
a toy.
Child
in love with eternity
eternally.
Man
tearing the wings off of
eternity
to see what makes it
fly.
Death
offering us eternity
with open hands
which we(grown use to
life) refuse.
Eternity
always and forever
becoming itself
in a new-born
child.
You meant 'grown used to life' instead of 'grown use to life', right? : P Loved your poem. Well done!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the unintrusive philosophical insight and the original idea of this poem - new born child still familiar with eternity...