Stillness

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  • Religion

    Stillness


    I sit up late,
    No sound is heard.

    Not even a whisper,
    Not even a word.

    I set enjoying,
    Silence, the stillness

    Then I felt,
    A faint little whisper

    A whisper of air,
    Barely noticeable to me,
    Yet, I , noticed it anyway.

    What is it ?
    What could it be ?

    The wings of an Angel,
    Brushing over me.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Dale121’s Poems (7)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    Little 1s 0 06/07/2009
    Careful Speech 0 01/11/2009
    Trouble, Calmed 0 01/07/2009
    Sweet 1 01/06/2009
    Stillness 0 12/22/2008
    In Winter Night 1 12/21/2008
    stillness 2 12/21/2008
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