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The trees have their he art in leaves
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Somesanu ]

2016-06-23  |     | 



Stone bodies with metal hands
grab the stillness horizon at their chest,
the mountains make a wall and wait.
The springs dig narrow valleys,
the time rolls over the edges,
the uncontrollable waters of the rivers
flow in the sea turbines.

The trees with their heart in leaves,
breathe the cold stars sky.
The green embraces the seasons,
the night horses pass by in studs
towards the plains where the windís eye
guards the grains sown forever.

Words canít fit in my words anymore,
the ivy climbs on the walls and shouts
the rain tears and roses
that cry your name in syllables.



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