I Am

An eternity, it seems,
 – or only a moment? –
have I borne this burden,
this work of sorrow
ceaseless in its being.
Upon a field
grey and lifeless
I am bound,
and there I harvest
the newborn soul.
Memory is not mine,
only the knowing
of what has been
and what must be,
and that, for me,
an eternity of being
is an end to the beginning.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: