As there is depth to the ocean
There is an infinite calling to my heart:
The variety of sparks flying
Tragically evolve from one
To many
To all-consuming.
These sparks may be wings
(Sudden flutter of wings) ,
Sad large brown eyes
Of cattle, horse or donkey
Preceding their cruel bending
At the hands of humans;
The sparks can be stars
Or many stars, galaxies.
The dead are calling to me.
My heart is an open container.
It is not really my property;
It is the conclusion of my pain.
A great poem really liked it. A good write. May i invite you to read my new poem. called, For Paul Blackburn. Its a true story.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice write...full of emotion. I have some new poems i would appreciate any feedback. Thanx -SG