When your bare feet run on the carpet,
We watch your sparkle with blessings in our hearts,
Fixed in a plate we all look into the tab
To enjoy your slithering around the room.
We haven't touched you, we haven't kissed you
We haven't fed you, but lallabied to the tab.
We missed your dimple, we missed your temple
We missed your fumble, but humble to the tab.
You are real, we are real
But illusion is in the middle.
We eagerly watch the babies around us
To materialize you in our heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Illusion many times clouds realities but momentarily..a wonderful poem