My heart has asked of me, by the stream
it asked of me:
(What feelings are if anything, truth.)
Do the trees sing their songs
when the wind blows?
The spider web sways but maintains.
When your legs are moving along life’s
twisting paths, do I (your heart)
speak softly to you?
The witness are the clouds above you.
As the tears come who sees your
shadow hide behind the rocks?
The falcon’s call of nothingness,
that spins your mystery.
And sunrise is a wondrous gift
and sunset but a promise.
:: 11-25-2018 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 