I am alive.
I breathe, I eat
I reproduce.
But am I an arrow
Cast by the cosmos
At some, perhaps
Elusive, target
Whose flight
Is a thread
Drawn through the loom
Of time,
That crucible
Of stars
And pyre
Of heavens?
So that some
Unseen but
Seeing eye
Might look upon
My thread
In the tapestry
Of eternity
And grimly nod?
Or am I
A meteoric
Fireball falling
Through the atmosphere
Being consumed
By my own
Existence
A streak of light
Against the night
A fractile of time
That could
Be missed
Altogether
In a blink
And gone?
I am alive.
I long to burn
Against the sky
A streak of white
that floats away
in the breeze
and causes men
to lift their
eyes to heaven
and ask
why
I am alive.
I have to echo what Judith said. Very powerful, and great images. Well done.
Thank you, my friend, for your kind encouragement. It's been one of those days, and kind words are water in the desert to me. Blessings to you, my friend, as you have certainly blessed me today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem with a philosophical touch.....10+++