Who guards the gates of paradise?
Dæmons or angels? And who
Sorts out the rubbish and the lies,
The gantlet that mankind runs through?
There are no guardians of the gate;
Souls gravitate toward light
Or to the dark; they self-select;
Some live in shadows, tenebrate.
Is any hour too late? I think,
Because our hopes are bound in love,
Because all mortals share a link,
This slight thread is just enough
To carry us to peace, and strive
To celebrate our common fate:
Echoes in the light of Days
And in the depths of Night.
2008
'We all arrive, or none' - Fyodor Dostoevski
In my opinion, this is among your very best, Will. Powerful and thought provoking... absolutely great! !
this is thought-provoking, richly written and powerfully delivered...great poem. Will!
An eloquent expression of your belief. Praise for your rich vocabulary. You are a fine wordsmith. Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What matters the Angel at the Gate, this is a superb expression of the thread of compassion that is strictly man-made and, 'thank god', links us all. Superb humanist write. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥