The winds daughter sleeps atop the waves
The tide slapping in
Fruitlessly shushing the world
Feathered hope reviewing its grave under the eyes of time
Disappointment creaking as it rocked back and forth
Love stamped in my mother's handwriting
Like the scent of grass bathed in morning's joy
Left beneath the sleepy gossamer of solace
And though her face escapes into an impervious state
I still kind of miss her
So hold the smile of an ancient oak
On which the earth is held
And kiss the fear of teathered hearts
Beating around until its rope has ended
Escort your pounding head to your mother's estate
And find the joy in discovery
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great tribute to love for mother! Thanks for sharing!