In sunlight dances the gnat so spry,
Yet my thoughtless hand will interrupt its flight.
Am I not too a gnat, drawn to the sky?
And are you not human, bathed in the light?
I dance and I sing, I flit and I play,
Yet a blind hand may sever my wings one day.
But if in our thoughts resides life’s very core,
And death finds its home where our minds choose to soar -
Then I am the gnat, with a joyful refrain,
Buzzing my melody, free from the strain.
What matters it then, if I live or I cease?
For in thought lies my spirit, my essence, my peace.
The Gnat
© Copyright: Лариса Сенегал, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125011201027
Свидетельство о публикации №125011201027
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