Reflecting - Poem by David Johnson
My heart beats heavy and faint.
my head pulsates with the feel of a fresh loss.
The loss of a mind played by an orchestra of senses.
With a neck craneing to rest
on a hollow chest to listen to slow droning beats.
How keen my senses sit
like hawkes nesting on the branches of my body
diving and swooning to nourrish
the roots of my soul.
The grass lands are barren.
How fear has sparked a blaze
reducing the once prosperous land to black dust
looked upon from above
with a sincere fear of the future and the unknown.
Comments about Reflecting by David Johnson
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye