in the dream
we touch and i am
free
like rain falling
on everything
it is different
when i wake up
and you are gone
these guilt like
thorns pierce
my hands and i
bleed
as you watch
in the quiet
of spring
and i have become
its main rose
when winter comes
the tree is real
stable upon earth
confident of its
leaves and trunk
rooted
and steady and
mindless
of the seasons
and the
travelers who
stop for a while
talk a little and
then move on
with their lives
leaving you
alone again
in the desert of your
lamentations
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem wih us. E.K.L.