A man walked the wet sand of the beach
and left marks of his bare feet.
Waves came and washed the sand,
the sand rested, clean, untouched.
God walked on wet, sleeping skies
and left clouds, marks of his feet.
Winds came and washed the skies,
the skies shone, blue, untouched.
A man, his days numbered,
heavy on words, light on substance.
God, heavy on substance, light on words,
his days - eternity, long forever.
But in a dream, a wild thought,
God was a man, the man was God.
But in a dream...
© Copyright: Борис Старосельский, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103030200070
Свидетельство о публикации №103030200070
Рецензии
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