May 04, 2009


The process of becoming
kills itself.

Flowers of a thousand
lives flow by, melt away.

Beyond the dark
is a voice:

breathless heat
that speaks and sings


Paul said...

That is very beautiful, a kind of dark and spiritual poem, perfectly phrased.

Agnes said...

Thanks, Paul. I was advised to put this in couplets. Good advice, I think. Outside of ghazal, I've not used couplets much. Coupling avoidance. Heh. Wonder what causes that...

Paul said...

Is that linked in some way to the poem above, coupling avoidance? You rock,