When he was alive
I wasn’t aware of that he less he
Acting within him.
I judged him as he that was visible
When he became still
I became aware
And wondered how
I believed in a he, a thing
-became a rotting thing
To be discarded.
Now, vow
I see the real he.
A fascinating piece about the reality of who we are, the masks we wear and the universal spirit we share. Excellent poem. love, Allie xxxx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The body is finite, but the soul is forever. Very astute, Raveendran. Warm regards, Sandra