It was a silent box without a single sound.
Just a silent emptiness.
It was so quite the silence was deafening.
A shelter without a conscience. A felling of sadness.
A sense of joy has been felt; hearts have arisen from the dead.
Silence has disappeared, laughter is gathering, lives are at peace.
Drowning in their thoughts are the hearts of the flowers
The stems are strong but their petals are as delicate and as soft new born baby in a cradle.
Tensions are building while spirits are searching, for a reason for existence a moment of bliss.
A feeling of freedom a thing called peace.
Now the room is glowing, like a torch.
A shining light, brighter than a star.
This is a place in which happiness is happening.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You are happy Chip I am happy Dale...So This is a place in which happiness is happening. Lovely write dear.