I had not slept well, to many things
and then not enough and then too many,
and the morning light had seeped
past dreams and installed a new one;
how can light bring darkness?
And now the sky is full of soft white
grey clouds moving fast but slow,
carrying tiny patches of blue
towards the horizon.
The wind just a gentle sway of branch
and the earth, even stone and rock,
not solid but soft to the touch of mind.
I had not arisen, just changed
the duvet on the bed of mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A whimsical little poem with a Michael Shepherd sort of wisdom. You mix the witty with the profound rather beautifully. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥