There amongst the silence of the stones,
whisper-echoes glaze her eyes
with velvet-touch remember-thens
of shimmer-moons and sun-delight
and a name that flings the stars into the sky
into a million patterns, wild and wide
like a forest of murmured autumn words
in untamed foliage array
caressed by late afternoon sun
in softened gold
and shadowed gentle greys
that breathe their elegance
in humble grace
enhanced by white night-flowers
that share their cool fragrance
in secret troth
with those who seek
the humbler treasures.
How can this ever and never be
in madcap, windswept days and nights
of never more?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great poem, like it.