For one who moves in uncertainty, this
flower, the petals of which
gently fade, as if reason
is found in the decline of beauty
and its comforts.
But all you touch remains
touched. If silence reveals the body
of music, what can be said of darkness? Words
appear motionless until they blossom, a
pattern seldom seen yet carried to us in
all manner of conveyance. Listen,
for there is no purer voice.
Let the earth speak.


lovely..
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLike
Beautiful..
LikeLike
Thanks, Andreea!
LikeLike
Why let the earth speak when you can be it’s voice?
Meaning that this poem is beautiful. It itches that spot in my brain that is hard to scratch.
Bravo.
LikeLike
Some itches just can’t be reached. I’m pleased you found this of interest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on An Odd Look At A Normal Life and commented:
Stumbled upon this magical gem while reviewing my likes.
LikeLike
Thanks for reblogging!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Exquisite, like a perfectly cut gem. My soul is satisfied but my curiousity is not. Please Robert, what is the imagine at the bottom? Do you know? It’s fascinating.
LikeLike
I must admit that I don’t know. It struck me as appropriate, tho I can’t articulate why. Found it on morguefiles.com.
LikeLike
I love Morguefiles, they have great images, but the contributors rarely add a useful label to even thost enigmatic of them. I am glad you used it, it does seem to fit and I can’t say why either.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for being the first to read my poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for writing it!
LikeLike
“words appear motionless until they blossom”
Yes. I love to witness the unfolding.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I suppose that’s why we write.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes
LikeLike
Lovely voice and diction, R. I like the break between the 3rd and 4th stanzas.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, D. An occasional “surprise” is nice after a break.
LikeLike