Saturday, March 5, 2011

At All Times

by Ingrid Prohaska

On my walk through the alleys of graves
I lose the feeling of time

Present, past and future meet each other
shaking hands
being friends

a flower
a candle light
a peaceful time

a smile
a soul
an eternal life-time

and a bird is singing its melody
without caring about what will be

Copyright © 2011 Ingrid Prohaska