The Bones Of Man One Thousand
Bones of man one thousand lie beneath the forest peat.
Plants and rocks rise above, but to all the stray visitor greet.
Streams rush swift in the craggy crevices far down below.
Deer and squirrel; birds of many colors come here to drink and then go.
Trees en masse mighty rise; winds whisper with the falling leaves.
Time carries none through the forest; giving only voice to its silent need.
So quick and soft are the moving days which gather upon each rising sun.
Forgotten are the memories of pride; cast down from once vain minds of a life already done.
The bones of man one thousand lie forever beneath the forest peat…
J. Allen Wilson © FIVE-THREE - TWO THOUSAND & SEVEN
Share
Print
Save
I read your bio, Mr Wilson, and really liked these words: "If it is in our power to do good, then it is goodness we must truly do”. Perhaps those bones have done some good while they were alive! A brilliant write. Thank you.
God Bless
Lena
Blessings,
Joyce Bowling
~Butch
Be safe,
Karen
God Bless,
Lew