For A Start....
blank, it is blank at first.
suspect, there is nothing, there is no one.
wait. there is a hush.
there is a shadow coming.
wait. there is a word.
it is a bean sprouting
last night placed
on top of
a sack wet by the rain
of tears.
i hear the sounds of syllables.
no figuring of meanings this time.
just hearing a sound
of life.
it is enough. I am not scared anymore
to the question: is there life here?
the windows begin to open
and lights are turned off.
good morning.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
