There is a God of red leaves and of dying.
He traced dark landscapes on my window pane.
Spare and beautiful the sound of crying
Libations of black coffee, drops of rain.
Old trees clasp limbs, sing poetry together.
I wrap myself in shadows to keep warm.
Clinging to fantastic shapes of weather,
Comforted, still, by lullabies of form.
the art of dying! ..............only artists deserve immortality!
A God of dying and of after-death...a God of re-birth...who saves soft memories in our new minds, and leads us back to old friends in times of need. N
yes. there is a God for red leaves and of dying, there is a God for everything, and even where there's nothing, there is still a God.
Your exquiste view into the wholeness of things is here again Sandra and showing us another way into nature.... the imagery used leaves nothing to be desired and this reads so tenderly.....thank you my friend.......from Fay.
Old trees clasp limbs, sing poetry together. I wrap myself in shadows to keep warm. Clinging to fantastic shapes of weather, Comforted, still, by lullabies of form. Love this stanza! It tranquilizes me.
SANDRA, THEY HAVE BUILT A 27 KM LONG HADRON COLLIDER NEAR THE FRENCH & SWISS BORDER TO FIND THAT 'GOD PARTICLE'! YET THEIR SEARCH IS ALL FUTILE, SINCE YOU KNOW THERE IS A GOD, AND SO DO I! ONE CANNOT FIND HIM THROUGH SUCH EXPERIMENTS, - BECAUSE HE IS EVERYWHERE! THANKS FOR SHARING THIS POEM! -Raj
comforted still by lullabies of form....lovely melody and picture mam
yea, there is God for everything! nicely interpreted! fine wording! 10+
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is a soothing melody in this piece which tranquilizes the soul...and I suppose that godliness is God...you are another Emily Dickinson... Kind Regards Indira Renganathan