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Saturday, November 24, 2007 

Category: Writing and Poetry
wild yang to my yin
seeded from these mother bones
mirror to the world
reflecting blue notes and pain
he walks the path less traveled

we begged him to stay-
within that small shell it blazed
teaching from first breath
even then he walked the line
between innocent and wise

gypsy feet stand still
while the world spins and dances
to a mad rhythm
I no longer need to run
when the wind urges me forth


© B.Y. Penman 2007 - All rights reserved.
4:49 PM
 
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Benedict
Benedict St.Quentin Fitzpatrick

 
shalom aleachem
 
Posted by Benedict on Monday, November 26, 2007 - 4:53 PM
[Reply to this] 
Mister J

 
Very nice work. I find peace in your words, and love how the tale tells itself in the shadow of your poem.
 
Posted by Mister J on Thursday, November 29, 2007 - 7:03 AM
[Reply to this] 
Savvyology



Last Updated: 11/23/2009

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Who Gives Kudos:

Benedict (2)
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