Isn’t immortality nothing else
than a realization of a living soul?
Music and rhythm in which souls
Are drawn and draped—
For mortals even on this earth
Is a breath that stays a breath
By which life itself would want
To have been kissed and held
Well-known, born, and matched
With her one true kin and kind
That if being sung and voiced
Past the marring bars of void
And shade-casting death.
Oh, yes, the universe does need
Such hearts where such one poesy
And beauty are the ambrosial guests.
No comments:
Post a Comment