Translating Blue Into White (By Mimi M. Meyer) Poem by Mimi Mata

The silence is vast,
Indefinite with contrast of color,
Rising; only to kneel, in the hazy horizon...
There are no songs to be sung,
And what remains alive are behind the eyes,
Of all that are sleeping...

I cannot find marvels,
Beneath my dark, quiet shore,

'In this wrecked dream'

I can feel the madness,
And the sharp 'pang' of livliness,
That refuses to be real,
Somewhat hovering above me;
Translating blue into white...

'Just out of my silent reach'
'Just out of my silent reach'

One blazing constellation after another,
Making itself out to be something so 'beautiful'
And, how I love that fire within and the life it proposes,
But just like all things its brightness,
Is more no less in that of a much later hour...

Those times where no words are concrete,
Or set into stone,
Only things left unsaid...

Translating blue into white,
'In this wrecked dream'...
'In this wrecked dream.'