The Song of Love
So tenderly the heart aches ring
of losses and of love in spring
that cannot be regained but still remains
as ancient melodies that never can be silenced,
ringing out in sharp and melancholy strains
that hurts forever but remains
of love and tenderness nevertheless
in piercing shrieks that never can be heard
but only heartfeltly perceived
as echos of the universe
resounding ever more alarmingly
in more acute and ever growing presence.
Love is the sharpest melody in history
that ever played unsilenceably louder
but with no one ever really hearing it.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2008-06-01 at 09:53
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Kathy Lockhart |
