Whispers of the East, with a poem by Mojo

More about Whispers of the East, with a poem by Mojo

Whispers of the East

A scarf of magenta, in tempest it sways,
Borne by the whisper of long-traveled days.
The sky hums in thunder, in echoes so vast,
Yet she stands in silence, unfazed by the past.

The east wind is calling, fierce in its flight,
Brushing her shoulders, then lost to the night.
Storm clouds may gather, their voices may weep,
But thought is her anchor, unwavering, deep.

The wisdom of ages, in stillness she keeps,
Where art and old verses in reverence sleep.
Marble and parchment, the gods and the lore,
Speak in the silence that scholars adore.

She walks with the ancients, their lessons so clear,
Their words like a lantern that time cannot smear.
While tempests may wrestle with earth, sea, and sky,
The mind is a temple, where echoes won’t die.

with love By Mojo