Oh to what is sleeping here,
Heart of past in bones so clear,
unknown shared in words on page
paper shift, the ribbon gauged.
It lingers now in breeze unseen
A craftsman’s work that once had been.
Yet, all I see in marveled gaze
is history full I cannot raise
but only pray and hope for me
that something true will come to be.
That something true will stand the test
be marveled too, someday at best.
But thoughts are not an anchored sort
they drift and flow, set sail at port.
And so to stare and wonder now
Inspired, I’ll remain…somehow.
Paula Antonello, Poetry. Copyright: Wednesday, July 8, 2020.
Image: The Wonder by P. Antonello.