Oh morning glory kiss upon the brow,
As western winds graze past gold meadowland.
Can you hear laughter's echo even now?
Just as winds cease, there falls an open hand.
Seeing the fairness of a sky too blue.
Wait wondering, grasping hold evermore.
Reaching out, pealing back that palest hue,
Entering into once elusive shore.
Sullen desires trip in to find their way,
Feeling well-worn edges past and to part.
Stumbling back into all which cast astray,
Kindling inner realms warm upon this heart.
And comes a vision lighting all remote,
Ethereal tides, drifting on I float.
Dec. 2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful imageries used by the poet......its lovely! !