Echo Tree

The wonder of History.

 

Come stand next to me

By the echo tree

We’ll yell things in

So time can leave

 

And the spacious reply

Will grasp the murmuring sigh

Of the sleeping Pharo’s plea

 

Reach the reverie

Living trichotomy

One of the three

Touch, relation; me

And the past kings rely

On the present state of try

 

And I touch the graphing imagery

 

Don’t move.

Don’t make a sound

Wake up the dead to life

Unraveling the pattern aligned

The order rummaged through

Has been tampered with

The bothered pieces lie around

Tramped universe

Singing it’s sound

Why draw the line

Simply to cross over it

 

But it was more scandalous then that.

More reactive

Holding the brick heavy casket

The monument began to move

Body once sunk,

Began to protrude

And sunk the dry air of death instead

 

“And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.” �"John Donne 

Author's Note

Any comments are welcome.