there you are
pain and its protrusions
creeks to rivers
and tributaries like
fingers of the hands
into thy chest to listen
to the whispers of the
heart the sea and the
ocean to become whole
again to be not noticed
as pain and its protrusions
but wagering waves friends
of the monsoon winds
slaves of the lights of the moon
sailing like ships losing
their shadows to a limitless
horizon into that darkness
sleepy until the next opening
day of the sun where light
in profusion blinds the eyes
the truths that scare us
we should have loved and
believed like gripping hands
of our very best friends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem