So Much To Think Poem by Satish Verma
So Much To Think
You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.
I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.
To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.
No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.
Every December snow
becomes a shroud.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/16/2024 1:32:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Every December snow becomes a shroud. Intensity in the emotions flowing through the poem is simply touching. Thanks for sharing.10 points.