3/6/09

Open


Who am I?

That question seems to move through nothingness
floating,
a leaf in the breeze,
ending up as a faint whisper of ...

what was the question?


5 comments:

Maury said...

Very sweet and gentle poem. Much in few words. Wonderful!

Mary said...

Thank you, Maury, for your comments and lovely insights...glad you visited!

Love,
Mary

André said...

Ahaha, nice!=)

Mary said...

Hi André! Thanks for "stopping by" ;-))

Love,
Mary

Julian Parker said...

THE QUESTION DOESN'T MATTER HUH? aND SPENDING TIME OVER IT STRENGTHENS A SENSE OF A SELF THAT ISN'T. THE IMAGE OF THE LEAF ON THE BREEZE, LIKE A RUMOUR FLOATING ON THE AIR, IS HELPFUL - THERE IS SOMTHING THERE, BUT SOMETHING MUCH GENTLER AND MORE HIDDEN THAN A ROCK SOLID SELF.