rhythm of the wave
is like the rhythm
of the heart
is like the rhythm
of love's passion
and out in space
quasars speak
and planets turn
in a familiar pulse
the pendulum swings
the dog wags its tail
the traffic rumbles
like a bongo beat
a pounding drum
in every street
the chaos, the distant past
city blocks or farm fields
fractal cells of plants or men
do not reveal the maestro
alone upon a hill
I hear a tune played
only for me
a symphony played
only for me
I hear
the music
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Aloha Barry... Fools on the hill... Hey, who is that there standing beside you? Pan? Nice word work my brother... pardon the puns... It is after all, Saturday! and the weekend and we are at Bernies! Having a warm Guinness and a smoke... the doors and windows are opened and you have placed the ball in our court...15-love! All of the best from this life, to you, and all of your relations... Michaelw1two
LOL - thanks. No one is on the hill with me, I am alone and I like it that way.