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WHEN A POET FALLS
by W. Mahlon PurdinThe little dewy grassy feathers
Will raise him up again.
Those mysterious worms
Will tell his story softly to the earth.
The wanton birds soaring
Lift him to an even higher place.
His fall is forever as he embraces
The wind and the rush;
His fears are gone in knowledge
Of more to write than ever.
His pen is now a comet and his
Tears are now the stars.
People pick up his writings and wonder
Where has he gone this gardner who
Tended to the obvious for a life?
Where has he gone, this prophet who
Told us the beauty we turned under?
And where has it gone, this small voice
That whispered love, love, love? 05/16/2006 Author's Note: For S.J.K.
Posted on 05/18/2006
Copyright © 2026 W. Mahlon Purdin
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by A. Paige White on 05/28/07 at 12:23 AM "His pen is now a comet and his
Tears are now the stars.
He fell into the sky...I'd guess he's falling still... what an awesome thought! Thank you!
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