Poetry Thursday

I haven't put a post up for Poetry Thursday in ages, but I was inspired to look for a poem today and found two that jumped out at me. I'll put one up today and save the other for my next post.

Is my soul asleep?
Is my soul asleep?
Have those beehives that work
in the night stopped? And the water-
wheel of thought, is it
going around now, cups
empty, carrying only shadows?

No, my soul is not asleep.
It is awake, wide awake.
It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches,
its eyes wide open
far-off things, and listens
at the shores of the great silence.

Antonio Machado, (1875-1939)
translated by Robert Bly