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Cities are not built by the thoughts of their king. #39
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I am a wanderer, a fast and weary traveler. By day, I run to and fro; by eve was I born. Who am I, to be so young, that I might live in the land? Yet, I am like one who has seen many suns come near and depart in glory. Who am I? #38
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A person’s work is perfected in their death. The living are admired for their meekness, the dead are remembered by their courage. #37
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Love, my love, where have you gone? The days have become shorter. I seek you and look after you; yet, you are nowhere to be found. My love, my love, what have you forgotten? I am in the temple, as a wanderer through many columns. My love, my love, where have you gone? The sun…
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Men without faith are like ships without sails, blown endlessly onward towards Poseidon’s gate. #35
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“Kiss the earth and come away; Come flee into the clouds.’ ‘I’m hidden and I have to stay; I know that you’ll be proud.’ ‘Kiss the earth and come away; Come flee into the clouds.’ ‘I mustn’t now, there is a fray; Their bellows are so loud.’ ‘Kiss the earth and come away; Come flee…
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People believe in songs what they could only imagine to be true in words alone. #33
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I find allegorical writing much easier at times. Words seem difficult and elusive, so I resort to writings of imagery. My mind has been weary. Floods of information have bashed its defenses down, leaving little left over. It is the beauty of being undone, I suppose; in the same way that one would furrow the…
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What is the power of a single word? Is the grace of one river sufficient for an eon? #33
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The following poem is, I believe, the first poem I wrote. It is not my favorite, by any means, as there are many things I would change now–but I am at least fond of the allegorical elements. His words are cool waters, soothing the flesh; Pale white is the crown which adorns him. Softly he…
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