Tuesday, January 22, 2013

The Past

                                                                                            Google Image
The mist is heavy enough
To silence a green Ocean
As if a wave is waiting
For the wind’s encouragement
To rise and rush at the shore
With an important story
From a far off salty sea
Painting, singing or sculpting
Its own exotic past for us
  On rock or wet sand beaches
Like a star’s light streaming
Across the black night sky
It brings us far lost moments
While we stand alone forgetting
Warm stories from our own rich past