I seek the
silence…
I
seek the silence of a secluded lake,
Of
a moment in time
When
the past is suspended,
Of
a mountain valley,
Mists
sweeping by,
Where
travelers rest and look,
Do
nothing more,
Of
a sanctuary
Bounded
by orotund hills—a body asleep,
Caressed
by moist winds,
A
world in repose breathing deeply,
A
place where solitude refreshes,
The
likeness of eons uncountable ago:
The
seventh day.
Originally
published in Thought Notebook: Anatomy of
Illumination (Issue 5), page 71
 |
| Asleep on My Shoulder (2007) by Nicola Beattie |
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ReplyDeleteGonzalinho
Short version of this poem:
ReplyDeleteI seek the silence...
I seek the silence of a secluded lake,
Of a moment in time
When the past is suspended,
Of a mountain valley
Where travelers rest and look,
Do nothing more,
And solitude refreshes—
The likeness of eons uncountable ago:
The seventh day.
Gonzalinho