Pagan Thoughts

Poem By kendall thomas

I shouted my name through the valley,
but there was no answer.
My name died on my lips.
No stone would consecrate it.

The grass parted no more.
Birds flew where I had been.
Little children vanquished my footprints.
Invisible to the world of matter,
I went after the wind
but made no rustle among the leaves.

Listen, heart of ebony,
what is it that truly matters?
Our reach is infinite,
yet contains nothing:
A few flowers dying in a vase;
A book or two;
Stills of a vanished life stuffed in a shoebox;
A tea ring left upon a polished table,
reflecting the blinks of sunlight
through slatted shades.

A door opens somewhere:
footfalls on a hardwood floor;
a radio - distant murmurs;
a cool sheet drawn upon a head;
the buzz of a fly that drifts away;
whisperings of this or that;
a closing door,
then nothing more.

Comments about Pagan Thoughts

Brilliant.Reminds me of an Emily Dickinson poem (I heard a fly buzz when i died) only its better.


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