Details |
John Booth Poem
The line between brilliant consciousness
And the darkness of oblivion
Is thin, is faint.
The physical is simply a host;
But does it contain a ghost?
Why are we here?
What we do,
Does it have any effect on, who are you?
And what about when we are not?
We are but once a simple dot;
A spot stuck
To an orb with blue hue.
The light is faint;
In the large night.
What about when we are not?
Into the darkness do we go?
Or is it dawn
At the start of night?
Vanish into the air
With a flutter of the eyes.
Up into the skies?
Those must all be lies,
Where to when we rise into flight?
Once that light comes;
Once it will go.
It should not be so,
That it would depart
And leave no glow.
Is it a portal?
Or does a shuddering rhythm;
A reluctant silence turn out the lights.
Such a small change in the end;
Were we ever here?
No one will ever know,
Where we will go.
The battles we fought.
The laughs that echoed around,
The smiles brought from somewhere beyond the sound.
Who will know?
No you and I;
Perhaps the sky.
Copyright © John Booth | Year Posted 2023
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Details |
John Booth Poem
The soul fills with undeniable pride,
And the heart is inundated with love,
For I know that I can in you confide;
As I know that you closely watch above.
Alive with energy you move about,
Like a dove flitting around the white clouds,
Suddenly your energy withers out;
Down comes the dove to the desolate grounds.
Forever is your bright light extinguished;
No longer does energy flow through you,
Your face is like liquid which has hardened;
A mask turning the deathly shade of blue.
Never again will you come by singing;
When you hear the red bells sweetly ringing.
Copyright © John Booth | Year Posted 2023
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