Slipping Poem by Justin Aptaker
Slipping
what is not remembered
how ever will it be?
i see my serpent slipping
sitting on a tree
and who, then, writes the riddles
if there no answer be?
i hear them say "he's tripping"
i trip right up to thee
pray Sir, a boon
and just as soon
as the words had left my tongue
i was rendered speechless
i was stricken dumb
Monday, June 17, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: christian,esoteric,god,metaphysical,mystic,mystical,religion,religious,spiritual,theology
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4/18/2024 6:25:13 AM # 1.0.0.1119
