© 2012 By Jim Sularz
When blossoms dropp and withered fall,
one final drink from solace rain.
A chilling night, dark shadows steal,
lost seed that's washed away.
Last tears subside, bright stars peek out,
a guiding light beyond timeless shores.
Tethered souls sail through faith-filled seas,
await Tide's harbor doors.
Young restless larks preen at water's edge,
launch wide-eyed and catapult free.
Neither stop to sow nor worry themselves,
instead, they just - believe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what beautiful use of descriptive words