When stillness roams the empty trees which are haunted by shadows of birds. Inky skies with a torch light lunar finger points to reason beyond all doubt you linger upon my dreaming mind.
Touch my soul with past cliches drifting like tides through dull consciousness.
Reincarnations of loss and joy mix a noxious but heady cocktail in which to drown while rationale is at war with the idyll.
Cooling and singular, a shudder leaves unmistakable tension where serenity once was so falsely impressed.
Yet awhile when the tree ghosts wake and air filters through a dappled dawn mist, all joy is lost to reality. Another day without.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.