gone gone like smoke
misty white, then nothingness
the woods now mere ashes,
light and white, taken by the wind
my passion for poetry is the fire
when it is consumed
there is nowhere to go
but to merge with heaven
the light, fair white ashes
perhaps a lesson not to take
life too seriously
nothing would be left
except ash and dust
that trail the wind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very evocative John. Justine