Standing, staring, watching beginnings flake into being,
transforming into snowy peaks, spreading themselves around.
Kicking aside dust of riding desert plains overnight,
instead, tracing one of a kind feathers into skies of
abandonment.
Lights shining their way into darkest corners of a single
existence.
(8: 42 p.m. - 11/28/09)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem