ABOVE THE GRAVE
The autumn wind whispers through the treesI stand alone above the grave,
And on top the highest, naked branches
There is a heaven's bird in front of my eyes
And from all sides...
I listen to her happy twittering
On her wings lay pearls from the sky
Clean, shining, golden yellow
And everywhere...
Angels are picking chrysanthemums next to the avenue...
On path in heaven, in the shadow of the morning's sun
Heavenly pattern...
And at this lonely moment, ecstatic
Comes into the pupil of an eye
I can see how the Lord creates life.
And everything turns to autumn again...
And now...
I stand alone above the grave. The wind is whispering
In the shadow of the morning's sun
He signs song to everyone
Above naked branches turtledove cooks:
There is life after death!
Poetry by Maria Deyana
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Written on 2007-03-20 at 21:04
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Maria Deyana |
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