The whole continuum of life
I see on rocks inscribed,
And someone did it
Thousands of years back.
A poet's throbbing being
On boulders lies revealed,
And the green turquoise river
Is the only one to read,
And this is not her business
To remember all the lines
This is the power of verse itself
That possesses the heart to depths...
Even time's inexorable march stops by
To glance at stones apotheosized
It spares the rocks from destruction
And for a long time it is due...
But who dare scath this Lord's hymn
That vibrates through the sinews of time.
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Submission Name: The Mystique: For A Poet Unknown...
