Pulse
It starts as a caress;
Faintly carrying its song on the wind
A song that yields an infinite harvest
Of days and tales not yet come
Of two hearts conjoined as one
Of a nation yet rising
And a kingdom undone
The bouncing whisper exists
Throughout the notions of the abyss
So long as it remains in our hearts
I can say only this:
The pulse that is our lifeline which remains unsung
Is worth another day learning to sing
Copyright © Andrew Travis | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment