i have always wanted to
write this
yesterday i desisted
for fear that you may read this
and something might
altogether end whatever was
started with grace and gladness
the museum of art and porcelain
is no longer appealing
and i walk in there floating like
some kind of a cloud
without direction as i am thinking
of something else
it is hard to conceive change
it can connote transfer, departure,
rearrangements, and even the filtering
of all those matters
inside the cabinets, the kitchen and
the comfort zone
it has to be done, it must be.
not now. But i am writing this
hoping that you may read it
and then you make the first move
yourself.
i pray. It will be good for both of
us.Hope you will.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem