Soul of Life
Decay, which gently darkens the foliage,
Its vast silence dwells in the forest.
Soon a village seems to bend ghostly.
The sister's mouth whispers in black branches.
The lonely will soon slip away,
Perhaps a shepherd on dark paths.
An animal steps softly from the arcade of trees
While the eyelids widen before divinity.
The blue river runs beautifully past.
Clouds appear in the evening;
The soul also in angelic silence.
Transient shapes go under.
© Jim Doss & Werner Schmitt