What we call black and white,
is many shades of grey.
The silhouette of a curvy feminine body.
The shadow cast over a furrowing brow,
showing years of wisdom and survival.
The pockets and grooves of the moon
illuminated by the sun,
and reflected in the sea whose ripples
are only seen in the moving shadows.
You too are neither black or white,
nor good or evil, but a composite of
many strange, and wonderful emotions -
And ever changing dreams, and memories
that move in and out of view,
like a passing shadow of a black cat,
cast against a textured wall by an old lamp.
Your mind, and body are forever changing
like the fluffy clouds, brought by a mighty
storm in many shades of silver.
For what inspires more awe than a raging storm,
weeping tears that fill riverbanks and sustain life?
All this wonder is not brought about by black and white,
but by all those subtle beautiful shades of ash.
Like our bodies, when they finally find their resting place amongst the stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Lily. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you