Waiting with answers
to questions unasked,
a vacuum state appears
Smelling the ozone
feeling its weight,
all time reduced to tears
A newness reborn
a prophecy filled,
the words await unsaid
As what was created
before it was made
—returns to raise the dead
(Dreamsleep: January,2023)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem