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Nov 10, 2020
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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.
***
About This Poem
Last Few Words: "The greatest illusion in this world, is the illusion of separation." Unknown.
Style/Type: Free verse
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Lavender
4 years 8 months ago
Hello Teddy,
Many, many thanks!
L
Lavender
4 years 8 months ago
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
4 years 8 months ago
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