We travelled into Eden
Just to find destruction.
A war of beauty.
My soul and I scoured
The land of dreams
And future memories,
We came to a black wall.
Fountains that spray with blue
Waters and make the sound
Associated with heaven are in the centre.
My soul and I searched
Every blade of grass
To find that one tiny universe,
We found lots of upper class ants.
Statues made from glass prisms
Are depressed in the ground
To remind us that we are colourful.
My soul and I tripped
Over and fell into a lake
Of golden locks.
We felt relief.
Mary X
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i loved the spirit in this! joyous and free. as such is your voice. the imagery was not overly abundant so one can appreciate it Xtra. glass prismed statues - whatta metaphor.