Inspiration
We sit in gloom and mortal misery,
imprisoned in the mire of mundane things,
while taunting sparks of immortality
flit through our darkened cells, where silence sings.
And oh! To capture even one! And for
that blessed moment come to understand
its radiance, and reverently explore
the brief eternity held in our hand.
We build our fragile towers toward the skies
with words — like rough, unsteady, slabs of stone.
In halting and abortive desperate tries
we strive to climb where only gods have flown,
then snatch the sacred wind that sneers at death,
and soar to ecstasy on heaven's breath.
Northern Lights...
Mike Grandmaison
Buy This at Allposters.com
Reviews
(applause received)
Be
the first to review this poem - click here.
|