The Gift Of Time. Poem by Christopher Holmberg
The Gift Of Time.
The sky is a blanket,
keeping us warm, or cold
something controlled.
Penetrated by its razor arrows,
or washed by its tears so narrow.
To look,
you'll be amazed.
To hate,
you'll be erased.
Just concentrate, open and wide.
and listen to its present
the gift of time.
Now the secrets out
we are under its power.
More guided than controlled
you'll discover
what's in deep.
That time simply repeats.
Copyright © ®2009, Chris Holmberg. All rights reserved
A good poem. You need to watch the sky over Abbotsford in the direction of the Fraser Valley for the infamous Nor'easter.... H
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/31/2025 12:47:33 AM # 1.0.0
this is a nice message..good lines. a pleasure to read