Tantalizing, forging, tripping through time,
allowing pain to filter through space and
alight on a distant plain.
Forgetting all the benefits left from days of
yesterday, sending signals of longing and
fidelity throughout heartened space.
Lightly, softly, glancing ahead, seeking new
dimensions, finding solutions in pens of ink.
Knowing all along the frenchiness of youth is
sitting on back burners, looking for life.
There are no more reminders in the light of
day, all significance has fallen through the
blackest clouds of satin night.
Bleaching foundations of eternal bliss,
turning, rolling over the ripples of eternity,
disclosing the finality of death at the
beginning.
Choosing to ignore the bleakness of it's self,
growing and continuing as all others before
have done.
Sitting always on steps of forgiveness, never
realizing that all along, many have traced and
followed their footsteps, having left prints
indelibly in sands of life on earth.
Yet, even they are washed away eventually by
the tides of life, washing gently over, pulling
them along into the mainstream of death upon the
ocean's arthritic floor.
Aging finitesimally, sands flow ever onward,
becoming the total ending of all life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem