Soulful voices pervade the wind
a quiet solemnity, cogitating
the where we have been
and where we’ll soon be
Whispers hover like grey clouds,
like morning fog or the never dissipating
mist in the forest creating a sobering
portentousness, a disconcert
The morning arrives in yellow
gold horizons as a symphony of song
gives praise by an aviary choir
for one more day
Curious we wait for the fulfillment
of Proverbs, to new beginnings
of a new world by the awakening
of the old
In every voice I hear
there is an unspoken fear
that our world will end
with much regret
We didn’t care enough
we fought too much
we didn’t share enough
we didn’t love the way
we should have
If time is soon to cease
of how we know it
we still have a choice to make
of how to spend it
Will we embrace
our common good
or will we push away
the dream filled nights
the sunny days?
I say live each day as if its the last day.
ReplyDeleteLike these lines:
The morning arrives in yellow
gold horizons as a symphony of song
gives praise by an aviary choir
for one more day
Gracias, your name says it all mi amiga 8-)
ReplyDeleteWe have a choice to make every day, every moment. Sometimes we lose sight of that, at least I do. Thank you for reminding me.
ReplyDeleteNice one, Nene. As a poet once said: The answer is blowin' in the wind.
ReplyDeletecute!
ReplyDeletexoxo
cappucinofrio.blogspot.com
Gracias mi amigos
ReplyDeleteI love this, the questions it asks and, especially, the choice we make in how to spend whatever time we have. So true. Whether an hour, a year or a decade, no?
ReplyDelete