In the morning of my life I awoke and sang to the falling moon
of things that have yet to be.
In the afternoon I praised my innocence at the sun
and mourned my loss to the dry earth.
Depths of despair taking over what was left.
Now, in the evening, I whisper to the stars 'thank you'!
I hear my own voice cry out in wonder
at the prospect of a new beginning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Liked this one Debbie, thanks for sharing it. Charlie.