she walks barefoot,
clad in panties, and
a long flannel shirt...
her long hair falling
down her back...
she's drunk on Jesus,
sunlight dances in her hair...
she smells like coming home,
her eyes soft as she hums.
nothing needed, nothing asked,
a prayer wrapped around...
light born from shadow,
the flower opens!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
''she smells like coming home'' especially liked this line in this wonderful poem.