Hands Skimming Grass

In shadow gardens I hear you weep

A stranger you have become

Through weakening, through mires

Steep

 

A different stone has arose...

In stillest silence caressing me, here

In blades of burning green

 

Soul flies deep

In transcendence

Delicate fresh wreathes of mourning

The fairest and supple hands

Grieve the smooth of  undying skin

 

I'm forgotten

 

The same earth bearing me

A stranger among fading suns

Of how it once was

 

Will I know you

Ever

Anymore

 

You, the me, a stranger to my flesh

Laid on fallen leaves

Calls the green earth of reminds

Save reveries last

These hands still

Can skim these quiet blades of grass

 

Reviews

[Nicholas Hallows]

The language you use in the poem is fantastic. It has a tranquil longing effect. I really like it. NH

[Pitta S Dev]

a very good work...a touching feeling

[An Ordinary Woman]

Sighs...

So beautiful, you have the magic touch. Such stunning words.
In shadow gardens I hear you weep

A stranger you have become

Through weakening, through mires

Steep

U wish you much happiness, your such a beautiful soul...

[Brandon Taylor-Black]

Beautifully worded Leesah.
It's been a while since I read your work, it's good to see your style hasn't wavered.
Bravo Sis