Comments Inbox
| |
About This Poem
Somewhere Past The Fallen Limbs
Somewhere past the fallen limbs
Of old tangled oaks and elm
Breaking silence as lighting dims
Rushing whispers split the realm
Mocking silence with a hush
It slicks the stones of shallow brook,
Exalting in babble with a gush,
I turn to take a humble look.
Searching fluid sounds of creation
Articulating His wordless voice,
Tears fall dryly at my sublimation
To waters endless song , rejoice.
Brenda Atry
September 28, 2011
|
|
|