The Poet Of The Snow Poem by Benjamin Chiu Uy

The Poet Of The Snow

Whatever is left at the end of the day,
This truant heart whistling in the darkness,

The spires of things to come,
The deeds of the dooms,

This human heart can only dread,
The functions of the stars,

The implicitly of thoughts in this abstruse language,

The poet and the dreamer have this thick layer of skin,
To claim the impossible or heaps of snow and earth,
In his daily endeavor,