Pheasant

God, make me that sweet, special thing-

hidden in that snow clad mountains
which kiss the skies and are crowned
by the diamond glitter of sun, -

the secret ways to reach it
are revealed to a solitary bird
during unique days of nature-

when that lone king of the whole universe desires so,
oh! thee

by burny peter

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.