Thursday, October 25, 2018

Quiet

O little lamb, stay quiet just so;
Not a peep, hold your bleat , a little while,oh do...
The giant lumbers on the hills,
A mantle of dust his cloak,
His food your tongues...
Do you hear the mute flock,
The thunder of their small hooves,
O dear little lamb ,quiet now,
So you can, when the air is free...
Some day, oh some day you bleats..
Yonder on the hills ,eyes of the hawk,
The giant thumps - not thunder,
The earth quakes, muffled, "no air here"
On the dunes, on the jebels,
Settles the bone dust  of the shamaals ,
For the cold wind swirls in the hot breath,
The giants' breath, icicles at the edges,
Taste of tongues held like swirls of fog,
Oh little lamb, quiet your heart,yet listen;
Not in fear,but aware,and still,
The giant too moves quiet...

(poem by Pc-3, 10/24/18)

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