The Ground Is From The Dead Poem by Patti Masterman
The Ground Is From The Dead
The ground is from the dead,
From their bodies; it's their bed.
The fragments of the crust
On our soles, mix with their dust.
The stones there are their bones,
And the earth, their lasting home;
The origins of lusts,
Souls formed from flaking rust.
The ground is from the dead,
And their thoughts dwell in our heads;
Their ghost is in your eyes
(And the whisper of their sighs)
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 4:08:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
