Blank canvas soul of the earth
Dirt turned to mud by swollen rivers an tears
Cruel pain and sacrifice for birth
Colors so vivid it blows the mind
I wonder if I’m dreaming
I wonder if I’m dead
I feel the wind
But it feels fake
I feel the sun but it hurts
I find myself on a twisted path
The crunch of twigs is all I hear
From under my bare feet
I smell the floral field
I hope to end up at soon
I see what my mind wants to see
I carry myself the only way I know how
I cleansed myself in the river
Just to dirty in mud on my way out
In the water there was comfort
In this sun I hope not to fall in my shadow
Let the light gleam and pierce
What ever is in the way
My mine sees what it wants to see
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We all see exactly what we want to see, , , very well expressed Lester...great imagery...10+++