Sharp rock people

Across my sharp edged crags
Flows smooth silent breath of God
Like languorous flowing unction.

An unperturbed and solid seeming thing
That greases the pain of small
Anxieties and flows seamless,

Showing the lies
That are the sorry stresses
Of our everyday lives.

Unnoticed thing with tickling feet
Like many mindful millipedes
That crawl their way across our sighs

Like spiked treacle.
Indulgent this is as perceived
By frantic sharp rock people
Living their frantic lives.



  1. #1 by helenvalentina on March 7, 2013 - 7:10 am

    You are right, love this! Such an inventive way to approach the theme! 🙂 Thanks for pointing me int he directio of the poem. 🙂

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