Pachamama Garden Of Eden Of The Gods... Poem by John F. Bisner Ureña.

The traps of life appear like ghosts
demonized truncating dreams that like foam
reduced they hide among the pine groves of the forest,
signs of green pleasures so fresh that in tears
of mint squeeze refreshing the throbbing heartbeat
deep in the heart that frantically beats warning
that she would die without Pachamama's natural climatic love.

Jealous becomes the human who vain to the peculiar pain of the proud standing pines and the screeching of snooping birds that they fly through the air, chattering happily all they see,
as they stand in the high branches of trees to rest
looking at the trees seen from a distance in an afternoon
full of dream clouds in the Garden of Eden of the Gods.

A melancholic flute tone sounds that in the same way
with its simple chords it gladdens the pleasant ears of the
who listen quietly to humble songs full of ecstasy
wild in diverse music and excited stomping dancer
with skill and admiration of Adonis the fields of my land.

John Bisner Ureña.
Writer-Poet and builder of dreams.
'Believe in yourself, do not limit yourself,
or condition yourself.'
'Together building dreams of life.'