I have often wondered what real happiness would feel like,
when I saw my twin sister’s journal, I knew happiness at last
– a feeling like warm coffee enveloping one softly, a joyous
fulfilment, all life appearing joyously precious
Because she printed a few of my poems and glued them next
to pictures I love – of old English cottages, illustrations from the
Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady, quotations from Esther
Hicks- Abraham, all the things that sustain me daily
Seeing my thoughts safe in my sister’s care, hearing her saying
that her own dreams are fulfilled, is the highest happiness I could
dream of - though she frequently looses the mental frequency
which ensures access to sweet thoughts, she is on her way
To finding the joy she was born for, stop lamenting a past that she
mourns for; I cannot ask for anything else, trusting that she will
break free from a legacy of bad memories
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem