UPON THE BREATH OF THE GREENS

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The best place for me to let flow a river of thoughts,

stones of words, to unfold and discover,

is in my garden at the break of dawn,

when my spirit is fresh, in its tender tone.

 

There I strip away those unknown doubts,

and feel only the blessing.

Just sitting here alone,

I feel the leaves listening to my heartbeat,

the branches bowing to me,

and the thirsty flowers catching the hanging rain of my imagination.

 

This garden I have toiled for long years,

woven from the tapestry of my own thoughts,

where my illusions have taken shape and become real.

It has become the haven I will long for

when life carries me toward the destination

written in the poem I call my very own.

 

Thank God, I am now healed.

Even with the heavy load still upon my back,

my heart remains full of gratitude.

I can see my sapience glow clear,

blooming just like the breath of the greens

that embrace me all around.

 

Thank God for this cozy haven, waiting for me to sit and savor its tranquil peace for a while,

as it laps my heart with its kind and polite breeze.

 

The gentle demeanors of the people close to my heart,

old and new,

are the ones who have lifted my spirit toward the horizon,

listening to the melody of my soul.




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