theres thoughts i have every sunday night
while my room fills with the sounds of the wind.
theres nothing here but me and the sweet whispers
and i have everything i need except the sun.
i could get lost in this close conversation but
theres no need to think because my thoughts have already created a flood.
my heart races while i breath slow and
the whispers find their way to my heart.
you remain a thought on a cool sunday night while
the whispers of the wind slowly make you disappear.
calm conversation dries up my mind causing it
to go from a raging sea to a leaf crumbling to nothing.
i dont get lost because i wont feel this rage or hear this leaf instead
i will listen to the wind on this cool sunday night like
there is nothing better to hear and my heart couldnt love anything more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem