The sidewalk is curved, like
my chilhood's faith,
is an understood thing
between my parents.
But it leads me to you,
even when i am stunned;
Even when i slumber along,
like the firefly awakens
age after forever age.
Pillowed upon the moment,
i should have stayed concealed.
I should have expected
justice and mercy were in
confusion and fright,
and it is my time for bliss
to have a thousand eyes.
It is my soul that has made
and re-made a God you must see.
A bed of our arms
and candlelight that assumes
the sun has a personality.
That the birds survive long enough
to make the leaves a fence
upon which poetry leans:
Upon which, is it even worth a penny,
sitting sadly upon
our millions of thoughts;
My old griefs inside the soft showers
of her bright blue eyes.
My deeper understanding of a gentle fate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW... anyal.... I'm left wondering if it is turned on by a mixer tap or two separate ones..