green is the grass and the leaves on the trees
and the sky is oh so Blue
all the while sitting here why I think of you
eight legged spider and and a tangled web
the moth fights to break free
sitting here wondering as I watch
do you ever think of me
birds and their wings
flight with their feathers
now I set you free
sore mighty eagle
and see the world
when your done come looking for me
nocturnal musicians
the crickets they play
and of you still i dream
hear trickles of water
from back in the woods
that runs swiftly in the stream
while Here I still wait
as the night meets the day
and the sunset peeks thru the trees
does the moth escape
the water stop running
will the crickets sing tomorrow
and the grass is still green and the bird on its journey
the world has not stopped turning
no more than setting you free
makes my heart stop the yearning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem