Perfumed pedals, tranquil moments erased.
I press gently against the trunk of the old oak,
firmly planted; yet the ground is unturned.
Reaching for a scent of Honor, fumbling on each
step to finalization; for within honor you find loss
yet the scent, perfumed grows on forevermore.
Buds of growth waist to top, back to forth never
missing a beat; chimes tantalizing; sending beats
of purple, yellow and green, together making new.
Splashes of light to seduce the mind thinking other
than, more than, and equal to, one with perfumed
palettes of colors, encircling petals of warmth.
Lovely wonders within this place, in mind, such
powerful scents of jasmine, rose, and such bold mint
taking over one’s senses, releasing paths to heaven.
Letting go, the most difficult of choice; for knowing,
seeing, living, within this very thought of bliss
makes for the most painful return….. to Reality!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem