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Jan 31 2008 | Views 84 | Comments (0) Leave a Comment

Indian Poem

As I waited the first cold morning of

the year awoke, streams of sunlight

came over the ridge;

so it began again, and as we cling to

our entities and hold on to our life, we

must surely hear the unsaid;

spoken by a saddest of hearts: we are

mere mortals, new days will arise and

fall long after we have gone;

and from my old school’s window

a child will see the blue mountain and

wish he could see its other side.

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Pueblo, Male

Member Since Jul 7 2001

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Jan Osman