I think I see movement
through the dark trees
a mystery in the forest
waiting to be revealed
I dreamed as a child
of lost cabins there
in wood or meadow lot
I still have these visions
the shelter is small, dusty
tired, rustic, welcoming
overstuffed plaid chairs
everything one needs
warm rough wood paneling
sunshine on mesh curtains
foggy mullioned windows
it is safe here, a retreat
I am alone but the place
is haunted by ancestors
ashes are my protection
the forest gods whisper
I see movement in the trees
the mysteries are revealed
I would give up everything
to step into this quiet dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful imageriesssssssssssssssssssssssssss
To wonder and admire! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Both the poem and the dream, which was an actual recurring dream, are drawn from life.