The Moon
The moon may wake up a stone
And this stone married me,
It is in the belly of a walking lady,
It is in the whole life of what is lovely.
I have belief in the empty places,
Of all single times this is a place I cherish,
I cherished my love of this woman
As I have loved it and found a stone
The size of a moon, our moon, our being.
The moons are not long in flight
They merely meet me in orbit, by the naked eye;
So rich is the talk of life after death
With this life, with this woman.
I can not die.
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
