The Giver Poem by Eric Cockrell
The Giver
the burnt fringe of the cloth
that covers his face;
a lion roars in the dark,
the child kneels and prays.
he laid stone upon stone
till it touched the sky;
the history of a man
who lived but to die!
when all becomes nothing,
nothing left behind;
but the gift of the giver,
and a satisfied mind.
I like this one very much. Such a giant truth in such a short and wonderful poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 12:09:00 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Amazing Eric. I just love everything you write. You are such a prolific poet and with such a broad range of themes. In a way, you are the giver of gifts, all this is what we leave behind.