Indian Poem <br /> <br />As I waited the first cold morning of <br />the year awoke, streams of sunlight <br />came over the ridge; <br /> <br />so it began again, and as we cling to <br />our entities and hold on to our life, we <br />must surely hear the unsaid; <br /> <br />spoken by a saddest of hearts: we are <br />mere mortals, new days will arise and <br />fall long after we have gone; <br /> <br />and from my old school’s window <br />a child will see the blue mountain and <br />wish he could see its other side.<br /><br />jan oskar hansen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/indian-poem/
