And there -
a subconsious projection
dressed in white,
stood a holy man
in the dead of night.
Quiet as the grave,
that he, and she,
faced in stillness
all thoughts that be.
Whether in dream,
or whether in fright,
a fading spectre
transformed its light
into days beginnings,
open wide.
Free from fears
minds shadow hides.
Sally Plumb
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bubbles from subconscious….fermenting fear…next solidifies resolute reverse…. thanks sharing Ms. Nivedita UK 10/10
Thankyou for your nth. Sally.