Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.
Nativity
It is long believed
my blood and bones
were created in
Eastern Africa.
I can almost
taste the pure air
as it sanctifies my lungs,
absorb the bold and dusty earth
beneath my virgin feet,
feel the holy wind
chafe my face
as I refuse to look away.
It is this holiness
of the wind,
the earth,
the sun
that
burns into my soul,
ash to ash,
dust to dust -
resurrecting life,
glorifying
that I am related
to all,
and all
related to me.
***
Style / type:
Free verse
Last few words:
"The greatest illusion in this world, is the illusion of separation." Unknown.
Editing stage:
Content level:
Not Explicit Content
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.
Comments
Lavender
Tue, 2020-11-10 15:52
Hello Teddy,
Many, many thanks!
L
Lavender
Tue, 2020-11-10 22:30
Hi, Jerry
One can only wonder how and what brought about Shakespeare, et al. A thought possibly worthy of a future JerryK poem!
Thank you for your wonderful comments!
L
Lavender
Wed, 2020-11-11 11:32
Hello, Jerry
Wonderful thoughts! Much to appreciate about the "great" humans of past times and present - I would not be surprised if Shakespeare's sonnets were simply created so that 400 +/- years later one JerryK would connect with them! It is all relative.
Thank you!
L