Howling of coyotes, haunting desert nights as they slink
about, hiding in shadows of ebony darkness, moon shining
brightly down upon them.
Showing only their silhouettes in the light from above,
changing winds blowing eerie sounds into the night, being
grasped and taken silently across vast wastelands of no return.
Insisting that freedom of nature will hold onto portions of
levity as we move on, letting go of everything learned and
known.
Spirits moving us throughout echoes of a yesterday that we'd
almost forgotten in the throes of life, now being focused on
where our path should have taken us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem