Perpetual Motion
The earth moves in mysterious
circles – unseen the hand
of rotation; as seas and their
content pushed by tides
both great and small, even on
the calmest day, true rest an
illusion within ripples – freedom a
debatable subject, no ship
sailing beyond its shores –
the mystic believing
each of us attached to a star: surely there are
enough for all...including those having perished
throughout the ages in the glare of light
and the shadows of dark...
little seems fixed as if permanent – yet
nothing passes without leaving behind
its echos – mine is poetry.....
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
