The promise of rain can be heard on the trees,
Whisper on the wind, evening mass
tossed about, a rose petal leaves
the stem, the comfort of mother
for the uncertainty of air -
unwoven sleep, dreams such are bodies
thirsty for warmth
the still in restlessness as been
too many nights while I've laid, alone
here in suspension
under canopies of spider’s silk
nostalgic for vines-
such are memories
such are thorns
the stars haunt-
a song the moon sings. a ballet
they step forth from the depths,
each twinkle: a baby step into the world
who has left the chest of his father
only to shine in his shadow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem