Easter Sunday

 

I sit in this smoke-filled room

Drawing wide the window panes

To get rid of the smell

 

My house in disarray

With piles upon piles

Of the newest memories

 

The gentle tigers purring

Gathering at my feet every step

My gentle Egyptian guardians

 

Time of hastening is upon me

Gathering anxiousness and doubt

Waiting for this change

 

Solid sense of heed, and speed,

And need, indeed, I must succeed

And take me from this place

 

Time grows now short

Grey skies shall bloom into blue

Slipping by in the hours of dusk approaching

 

Urgent sense of ends and beginnings

Changes great and changes small

And all this now will soon be no more

 

Now is the death, now is the birth

The time is fast arriving like a thief

And will steal me back to where I have known

 

 

Winter ends

 

 

Spring comes

 

 

(I can hear their whispers within the earth

They make no sounds

And ring like mountain temple bells

Into my soul)

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Jinx]

This is a very nice write. I was drawn into your words. I love the way you describe things, images, animals. It's beautifully done.

[THE BLACK SEAL]

very nicely set to paper. it has that mysterious edge to it

[Mitchell J.U.]

Truly the death of winter to the rising of spring creates a great passage to the cosmic. I love this poem.

[thecoolone52]

The gentle tigers purring Gathering at my feet every step My gentle Egyptian guardians---------- is that about your cats??? Anyway great poem i really enjoyed it....... nice vocab as well

[Star-Runner]

I just love your fifth verse, I like the whole write it's very good, You are very talented.