Mist Poem by Molly Forest
Mist
At the top l see
a face of a mountain developing before me.
I step
with no shoes
feeling the warmth of a melody so soft
so gentle under my feet.
Smell of the sweet
as each blink drips into the land.
Heart is the beat
no glass insolates natures rythme.
Rocks breathe
holding the energy left behind.
l look over the edge
eyes so wide
grass so morninged.
Then-
lift, off i go
into
pure bliss.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 2:56:55 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I only have time to read a few poems a day.....enjoyed reading this one...Vallerie