in the fields of your dreams
we were never just scare crows
we were the flowers
that bloomed in June
the dews of dawn in May
the merry makings
of December
the promises of January
the forgotten deaths of
April
in your life we cannot be
disregarded
we are the integral parts
of you
do not look at us as though
we are just
your scare crows
we are your rivers too
sometimes you touched
the sides
of our being mountains
and we shiver
like a squirrel
the one that runs away when
you begin
to move in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem