A poem full of silence and absence …
photo credit: Howard J Duncan Basho’s Pond via photopin(license)
What can we learn from the silence,
From the absence of the thunder and roar.
From the separation of the sense from the feeling,
The search for a meaning beyond the blue door.
What is the substance of existence,
The warp and the weft, the disparate threads.
Is the heartbeat just a Morse code call to the dying,
This mortal stardust’s flickering dread.
© 2020 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Made of sticks and stones 