I look into the horizon of your eyes
and I see a promising yellow sky
I feel the width of your face
and i feel my world turning in my hands
then i, in the very reflection
of the windows to your soul
blink
and
find
i am amongst the undergrowth of pine
and the oaken branches wisp about me
i reach for your hand but cannot feel time
i cannot see you, but your hand finds mine
the fog of the ripe golden earth arises
and floods my senses, floods my face
my breath is the pen of the song of Isis
my heart wears a warm winter dress
i open the door to a world of dreams
and i look into its glassy globe
an icy wind is appears, but not what it seems
it is but a soft snow, with each twinkle, gleams
i am amongst the faces of the world:
the world of a thousand faces
in all these different places, all at once
they seem to pull me every way
every note of music draws my heart
in a different shape, of a different part
i wrote this poem and thought it through
and penned the the very words of your existence
into the drawer, i placed a card
sent in the post, by a man of most
honorable respect and dignity
though i trick myself in all misery
to think you sent that post card for me
{inspired while listening to Postcards From Far Away, by Coldplay. also inspired greatly by my Love}
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem