as it gets cold and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself—
inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.
Tonight as it gets cold
what you know which is nothing
but the tune your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
in that final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love what you are.
ell yourself what you know which is nothing but the tune your bones play as you keep going......../// superb poem penned with introspective philosophy; thanks for sharing this poem
thats freking scary but really good for a poem
Mark's poems meander left and right, to and fro, around bends and back again like a country lane and it is a similarly charming journey as we read.
oooo, nice. well done, logical free verse. my style too. have to say i like the way i write and i like your writing also.
It's a beautiful poem. In the silence of night it remains with me as I close my eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Being from the far north of Canada, this one hit pretty close to home for me. Try mine – I Cannot Return – Adeline