Sands
under my hands
sitt`n at the river
under
a palm
listening
to the words
river is telling
like a psalm
Solitude
embraced
by a siren
call
whispering
wisdom
couldn`t stop
listening
at all
Humans
were speaking
songs
were heard
secrets have
meetings
with souls
being
a word
Shadow
has gone
sun beat`n down my head
sands
were wet
golden seeds
fall onto fertile soil
listening the river
I never regret
(c) All Rights Reserved
Floy Dy Ra, Feb.25/2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
............truly this is a drop of poetry, falling on the fertile soil of a beautiful garden, in the early morning sun....and if we watch closely, we see blue butterflies alighting on golden daffodils, purple irises, and an array of multicolored tulips...beautiful poem