I am my cocoon -
sarcophagus of my past,
womb of my rebirth.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
The message is supreme;
Born in the heart,
and lilting itself
from tongue to tongue,
throwing its scent
over wind and wave;
travelling on dots
or fingers
when blindness
or silence bar its way.
It hews itself into stone
or burns itself onto magnetic discs;
it is the message that lives
and I exist
solely to pass it on.
0 comments:
Post a Comment