The blind pigeon – it has no eyes
In their place
just two hollow dots which are
deeper than everything that
doesn’t exist
I don’t know where the song goes
once it is over
or what happens to the poetry
once the poet has laid his pen
down
or where we shall go after we
die…. But one thing is
for certain –
the unsung song, the unwritten verse
and the unborn child – they
build their nests in those
two empty spots the pigeon
has in place of its eyes
But the pigeon sings of light!
Indeed a blind pigeon
is like the shadow of terror
in an infant’s face…..
Or maybe the shadow of an infant
in terror’s face
All the same
4 comments:
superb...beautiful thoughts...as always...keep up the good work....
Weirdly cool. I likes!
This was a really good read :D
All the same,all the same,we're all part of this same game and no matter how I name it,IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER.
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