Poem -
THE HONEST
The honest never change.
Because they have wings.
They live in a clear expanse.
Pure as birds.
That's why you always find them silent.
They sit by the riverbank,
Waiting for the sun.
The honest have a different flavor.
Imagine what it would be like
if they were here among us.
Their presence is rare and inspiring.
They remind me of you;
Dear reader
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Comments
I can imagine all of us sitting together near a slow moving river, nice sun and no secrets, that would be the life. I like your philosophy, feels like the oudh in the desert... (I like to listen to Persian classical music, among other tastes)
Dear John,
Thank you for your careful reading. I'm so glad you liked the poem. It's a wish, a dream, and an invitation.
Yes, an invitation I accepted in the Spirit World, thank you