Trace a silent line of beating wings,
Beyond an edge of this road ahead.
There I will stand before a grass sea,
Waiting to take you gently by a hand.
But only when the lines of time,
Have traced your face with worn care.
Let our hair be as silver-gray as a winter sky,
And our bodies as tired as snow weathered hills.
I will wait upon a last whispered breath,
To find you held tight in my arms again.
Surpassing each end of every road,
To a place where tears cease to flow.
There with yellowing grasses wave,
Upon the edge of this world will I stand.
Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.
Your writing is always elegant and beautiful. Happy New Year, Michael!
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Thank you so much! As is yours! A very Happy New Year to you as well! We should do a poetry collaboration for poetry month. Pick a theme and the. Feature our writing on our separate blogs. If you’re ever interested!
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A collaboration sounds interesting. Poetry month is April, correct?
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Yes it is!!
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Reblogged this on Brave & Reckless and commented:
Gorgeous poetry from Michael Erickson
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Thank you so much!!!
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