Together we are, everything and all.
Not destined to sulk, by the wayside fall.
Or sit all alone.
Like muted shiny stones.
The cliffs are daunting,
not we, though, wanting.
The wind will blow soft as a breeze.
It will only manage to caress the trees.
It'll not be hot nor will it freeze.
Make us smile, not make us sneeze.
They'll sway with us, the weeds and reeds.
Spill forth the mother, her pearly beads.
The sands shall glow.
As lapping seawaters, ebb and flow.
Those gulls will hover, to guide us bye.
As on mother nature's, bosom we lie.
The salty spray will add to the taste.
As we stroll the bay, without any haste.
I'll carry some of your bags,
tote them along, with my tattered rags.
Nothing will ever bring us down.
zipping from our city to a distant town.
Could be there, where we want to be.
From top of the cliff, far to see.
No spite shall remain in our weary heart.
Of which we had never, wanted a part.
What rests in memory, are decades behind.
Hand in hand, new out crops to find.
We'll thank life for whatever it taught.
And also fate for what it brought.
On our journey together, newer climbs,
new meaning to poetry, new life to rhymes.
Soaring higher to magical lofts.
A mystical life of perfumes and softs.
Above the hills and mountain caves.
Above the wilderness and lonely raves.
Flowing the course along rivers and bays.
skipping in gold dust that forever stays.
Liberated free, flap like eagle's wings.
Not care a fig, for them past things.
We'll not fly alone and be by our selves.
Like fist full of shekels stacked on shelves.
We'll say the magic mantra and those words,
that are silently said amid necking birds.
When colors will shimmer and rainbows bend.
Our loneliness to put, to a permanent end.
Revel in the vision of a verdant swath,
our right to tread that smoother path.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem