We surrendered
through our cravings, embraced
furies in those philosophic limbs.
Our days somersaulted in the wind
bonding with the invisible.
There were wrinkling horizons, way back
then weighty in the April solitude.
And burgundy sunsets
grave with a future’s dreams.
Nights dancing through each lotus kiss.
That kingdom then unwound, long in passion’s teeth,
summoned again in the earned wisdom of rain.
'That kingdom then unwound, long in passion’s teeth, summoned again in the earned wisdom of rain...' ...That is how wisdom plays....well done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
grave with a future’s dreams. Nights dancing through each lotus kiss. Rachel Ann Butler