“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Wednesday, December 16, 2015
Done with Do-nation
Dutifully unattached,
with nothing to hold onto
it is faith that floats
when nothing is left, you have done right.
Giving, to give, give it all away and pray,
my wish for you, my everything...
Be just, just keep what you have taken and leave me
alone since I have nothing of value
any more than I will be...
All that I could get, I tried to do for you...
To give, to want the best soley for you,
all that I do it was-
I shouldn't say it
in this way,
but I'm lost and cannot find
the kind
the need...
High and low I looked, sought, and fought
for more, yet there seems to be
none left in store
of what I have no more of
like love,
there's nothing more above,
I've given out more than I had,
none for me but I now can see
from looking down on thee-
Life seems much lighter when your empty.
Image of painting by Edmund Leighton (1895) The Chairty of St. Elizabeth of Hungary [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Feather weather
Before I arose the tangerine sunrise squeezed its citrus air through my bedroom window dripping fresh pulpy nectar of a new day onto the co...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
The ship sailed West on Sunday The wind was too wild on Wednesday Our arrow plane rips the paper sky, severing space for itself, i...

No comments:
Post a Comment