domingo, 14 de febrero de 2010

After exile

so many years passed

and now the birds of my land

ask sing urge the sun

so many years

without knowing why I still existed

brushing my fingers along railings

walking blind

scaling steps organized

according to a design I knew not

so many years awaiting

this lucity taking possesion of the dawn

I blink under this exquiste light

of first knowing

I receive the rain

transparent honey

illuminated at daybreak

endless gifts

of life

Lorena Lobita Wolfman © 2010

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