After all, as you lie in my arms knowing all
needing nothing but what is, the earth rolling away from the sun
Thunder rolling in the distance
Can you hear the thunder of death, my dear?
Yes, I hear it and more, I hear a sound
Not everyone can hear, I feel an energy not everyone can feel -a Sound
Birth a note, Love a song, Death
Spinning days into silk, connecting man to men, men to women
Woman to every child, weaving nights out of the past -
The Dead speak to me
They are not dead; they are here
And with the silk of souls our future is woven, all that is,
that is humanly good, out of birth this note, out of love this song
Little worm silken light little word OM
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem