The great bird bathed in blinding light,
The wind, its touch, held its flight
Suspended - vacant - and its wings moved
Delicately slow but savage in the silence.
I felt our eyes reflect the brightness of the sky,
Felt the cold abyss of fire as I fired
Then recoil – as an axe
Pulled back across the sun, distracts
The land and the cool, dark souls
Of a perfect world –
So its screams just died
Within the might of time.
YOU ARE READING
Gathered on This Beach: Poems & Perspectives for a Converging World
Poetrya student's writings, inspired by nature and science, and accumulated throughout the early days of the Internet, these writings explore expectations for the expressive 'convergence' to come. (revised edition 2014, with some alterations) ALT. BLURB: ...
