Time cannot be hurried or slowed,
An astral play cannot be altered,
A statue doesn't feel or hear
And so when two blind forces collide
That can't be Love.
Romance wears dulcet attires,
Stiletto shoes that often ache
But keep the lovers high, stepping on air,
It is powdered with intense spices
Powered with rosy cologne
Yet those two forces struggle,
Tightening a tie around their necks.
Egos believe they are distinct, secluded
That's why can never commune
For there no falling or raising happens
Love molds them in Oneness with all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Intriguing and compelling writing. I love the images you create here. A vibrant yet evocative and creative take on a universal theme. Well done, good poet!