Speak now in words with no shadows,
falling crystal drops into canyons of tomorrow,
where honey colored butterflys
fly up in startled swarms above flowers
planted centuries ago by girls wearing pink dresses with
lace at the collars.
Speak now in words gentle as snow flakes
blowing against a face you love and have remembered
for so long it has become your own soul
dressed in robes of crimson and saffron silk.
Speak now in words scented with a strange music
which dances over meadows, thru tree tops,
and into open windows,
when you cannot find the next chapter in this you are dreaming.
When night black and silent,
invites your true voice to speak.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem