Bodys buried on the shores of Ganga
I stretch my arm touching her surface
Softly strifing waves around me
Passing flowers are telling stories of weeping
All the lights of tiny candles
Floating warmth around my wrists
Destilation of a scent ive known
Breaching over nostril inflation
Rhytmically flaring to drums beating hearts
I smell the flesh, the yearning parting
Chants whisper of mystical creatures
Faith i share with devoting souls
I lost my cross on a rocking boat
on a river aged in stories
copyright (c) 2012 by franziska dirnberger
Crazy intense sensory language here! Powerful end lines. “River aged in stories”… love that!
Thanks, glad it spoke to you..my heart still wanders up and down that river bench
very nice…great elements from the candles which speak of loss to me….and the cross lost as well on the river…so many stories there is bet..nice verse…
Thanks, glad you like it. there are many things to loose on that river and so much more to gain.
Loved it! It was emotionally, soul-stirring. In a positive sense. You’re amazing in how you express feelings and the use of words is mesmering. : )
Franza–I love the images in here–took my breath away, you did…
Very nice… LIke the poem. Liked specially n the line bout the cross..
The world is still the same. I wish you a happy holiday