And its in the selfish redemption I find in her eyes, that I...
the sort of peace the caresses my fears to sleep
and as words escape her mind and leaves her lips I can find
nothing greater than watching her speak to me
knowing she is unselfish with her affection
and I am immature with my truths
and its then in those spaces in conversation
she fills me with worth and memory of a happily...
breaking through my clouds of negative energy
her gentle breeze leaves me clarity and tender seasons
and as time rolls impatiently so, her smile
remains a zealous believer in forever
and its then I find that I have just begun to know her
this mystery and obvious gift across from me
chanting theories and possibilities with a whisper of my name
to check my attention, and I remain distant in my thoughts
of her, of myself, of disappointments and faithful chances
and there kneeling at her feet I find my imperfection clearly....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem