A leaf carried by a breeze
I have little to my name
Withered and worn,
I've seen my share of change--
A season's change;
Not much
I'm green;
but its only the reflection--
the truth is more profound
Than what can be seen
In a shallow puddle.
And I--
I am an ocean
Buried in the layers
Of my soft flesh--
in the depth
Of my existence,
A vastness, unseen.
As I'm dragged along,
I take it all,
The violent words
Whispered against my flesh by
angry winds and crashing waves--
The desire of the flames, exploding in ecstacy;
A forest succumbing in shame.
The pain, the loss, the value
Of the world.
I hear it
And I speak of it--
Not at all.
Not of the sorrow of
A ragged root caught around the ankle
Of innocence--
Or of a branch
Torn from the elder tree's body;
The agony of Wisdom's desecration
Like the Library of Alexandria;
All the knowledge of a nation
Lost.
I hear the prayers of desperate men
And I hear the curses of madmen
And because I am everything
And nothing
All at once
I hear, I feel, I see
Silently
I stand somewhere between
the bearer and the destroyer;
And I watch
As war is waged.
Green, am I.
But, Oh, the things I've seen
YOU ARE READING
Momentos of Change
PoetryDark poetry, with the occasional 'lifter' poem. Poetry helps calm the turbulence of my mind, heart, and soul. many of these poems have been posted on darkpoetry.org. They are all my own works, and all with a copyright. Come ride the winds of chang...
