Follow me Son
© 2009 - Ben Heine
A poem by Peter S. Quinn
I'm going in deepest of unknown space,
Searching with a kindle, not clear or bright;
I'll be flying dimensions, hours of grace,
Close to daybreak and the fullest of night.
Like a bird in dark with one pair of wings,
Flying across oceans, somewhere not known;
Or a singer who searches on, as he sings,
A seed from a fragile bloom not yet grown.
Ah dear friend, perhaps likewise, so are you:
Knowing not yet where your fate is going;
Into the distance, in haze and in blue,
Mountain root moss there seems all to be glowing.
Unclear quite now, is each of futures seeing,
But when crossed over, there dwells each being.