There was a long passage ahead
A passage of time
A passage of hope
A passage of aching
And one of joy
Of growing
And stooping
And finally falling
Dissolving into earth
And becoming earth
And the passage was crooked
With corners
And remarkable discoveries
At the edges
Small glades and bowers
With long grasses
And meadow flowers
And quiet rivulets
Where we could sit
And watch the sun and its daily droop
The passage we walked was crooked
With wild moments
Of crazy chances
Taken and madnesses
Of faith.
We leapt from cliff tops
And angels caught us
We stepped on water
Held aloft by supernal forces
We fought no one
And won every battle
Your face was crooked too
An accident at birth,
Of birth,
But lovely too
In its gentle disorder
You were a tender soul
A quiet soul
An unhappy soul
Unfulfilled
Restrained by
Bars of slight disfigurement
The crooked passage was not for you
You yearned for the straight way
Your face adjusted
By the surgeon’s knife
The prison door opened
And you stepped out into
The bright dazzle
Of nothingness
And nowhere
Where nobody is true
Nothing is reality
And reality is nothingness.
There was a rose garden
There were thorns ahead
There were pains
And crushing
And birthings
And rebirthings aplenty
But they went untasted.
Through a door not entered
Along the passage left
Untaken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem