Friday, April 6, 2007

Quiet




Introspection comes
to an end and then the golden
yellow leaves slowly and perfectly
fall to the mossy ground
The maroon earth lays
down with a sigh

The forest fever has ended
flowers have coolly
silenced their speech
the ramblings about
a future tomorrow

The soul is empty like glass
lost its vibrancy
forever in mourning
The tremors removed
the song of life

Harmony trembles over the shores
the moors, the fragrant whisper
lingers over the memory, coy
The calling
to come home, no more
As one resting finally in peace