scared of the future

by socrates stamatis - Not entered

barely a whisper scarsely heard among
the soft swaying of the leaves
the voices say to me the trees the trees
dirt and wind you will be all of these

running through a valley assaulted by
perfumes of flowers breath struggles 
for my lungs with the pulse racing
in my fingers with the passage of years

my ancestors speak clearer and nearer to me
in time I will join them in the soil and
cold running river the wildflowers and
evening breeze and the trees and the trees

Reason for writing:

    a couple of january's ago i was daydreaming abouut
the very question of existence and how time and space
have no end and no origin and realized the futility of
the exercise.    

Birth sign: Not entered
Date created: 1996-06-26 17:42:16
Last updated: 2021-03-03 14:38:51
Poem ID: 45137

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