Out of a garden grows a verdant forest
A forest of wounded artistry
To be in her presence
Is most overwhelming
Roving under the flooding shadows of towering trees
Winters frost drowns me gently
Pines exhale a rare scent
Roots surface from a frigid grime
Leaves spill from succulent timber
The irony of this place lures me beyond the pines
Deeper - Further
Away from her echo - her image - her light - her memory
My place in love is far beyond this cursed forest
But loves place in me remains within these pines
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem