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Writing experiment III
In the morning, I pick up the lock, to my heart.
At least I keep trying.
At noon, I recall the nectar of the moon.
Have you felt how the lotus bud opens in your empty hands?
In the evening, I wash my hands, with my tears.
I don't sleep at night, because of the thunderstorm, in my head.
Into my heart and out of my head...
Unheard dreams find their refuge even
Unattended thoughts scatter like clouds
Skip the heart focus on navel gazing! Eh.
At night matters of the heart come to light
What matters is the life we create inside
The hands of time ... everything else ceases
To exist when you close your eyes: Sleep!
Tomorrow you can think about your lotus seeds
While the roots remain where they belong, You
don't need to become one with the mud. Breath
Poetry by night soul woman
Read 798 times
Written on 2015-02-19 at 18:41
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