Poem: “Souls”



I wish I were a river birch
Above a living river,
Leaning from above to watch
The flowing of forever

Have you seen how delicate
The branches and the bark?
How patient must it be to wait
By sunrise and by dark

But all the trees in heaven
As Solomon are wise,
They grow beneath a living sun
And know the truth from lies

Peter is a fisherman
Who waits for honesty,
Those a fisherman can land
Are for the Lord, says he

April 7, 2011


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