These words I write
no longer seem my own,
I am fading away
in the shadow of where they've grown.
Once I was a raven standing bravely alone
upon a field of cold snow,
now I am afraid, covered, fallen and frozen...
and still alone, at twenty below.
In my dream
I walk and walk and walk.
Looking, for the treasure.
I walk a thousand miles
to find the place,
where I can look into a mirror
and finally recognize my own face.
I go through large cities
and small towns,
gazing through the empty windows of what must pass,
and still, nothing new is found.
If somehow I knew I'd never
die,
Would I still love the birds sailing through the
sky;
The majestic mountains stretching way up
high;
Would anything mysterious move me enough to
cry;
Could I ever again gaze upon divine beauty and simply
sigh?
My heart has caused me to pursue
wild tales of treasure from long ago.
Up strange mountains, through rivers flowing,
across deserts parched, and into canyons deep with drifting snow.
I have chased the Gold that may not even exist...
...and loved every magic moment of it.
I doubt I've ever entirely returned from even one adventure...
... and am only certain of this:
though doubts I bear,
I never shall fully return, nor quit.
I loved the mixing of rhyme and free flowing verse. Your ponderings make me pause and do some heavy thinking. A very deep and perceptive write with a unique philosophy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very beautiful.... thank you for sharing....karen