Real but not real
A virtual reality wrapped in reality
Forming a mist in the morning
Painting the grass with clouds of water
Ambushing the sleeping bugs
With the dropless rain
The mist that was consumed
By the ever-hungry morning sun
Warming its way up
As it rose out of its humble pit
Shedding its yellowish skin
Giving way to a mighty hot ball of fire
Light that gives birth to life
Nurturing plants
Natural gifts of fruits
Born in the belly of the sun
Far away in the pit of darkness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem