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Open Poetry #2

The Isle (a)

Soleil
Member

since 1999-06-12

Posts 113

0 posted 1999-09-27 10:50 PM

Birds Fly fast to the far ends of the earth
First northeast, then south, to an isle lost
In God’s time, before the prophet’s birth
But they go there, regardless of the cost
Awaiting no authority.

For cloaked in grey, misty songs not yet heard
They lose common voice when their goal they reach.
For once living souls are disguised as birds
And they tumble from the sky to littered beach
Not one having priority.

The journey is one of permitted way
With judgment and restrictions and excuse
But once found, there is no reason to stay
To have wings broken by exempt abuse
The children of minority.

Would that I could follow a course taught
Where isle and belief were as one sought.

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Nan

Administrator

Member Seraphic

since 1999-05-20

Posts 21191
Cape Cod Massachusetts USA

1 posted 1999-09-29 09:53 PM

....I just can't let one of your wonderful works slip into the depth of Passions...

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