The mailbox is full -
But the one that I have been waiting for,
Does not come.
What do I feel then?
A sense of pain, rejection, loss -
A sensation in my heart,
That is the moment a poem is born.
A poem holding rejection in its palm -
Becomes a timeless piece and stays.
In the morning the sun was mild,
Now it is bursting in delight,
Like a bolt from the blue, he arrives -
We sit together, have lunch......
He was not to be,
But he is here with me,
A poem holding delight in its palm -
Time refuses to move at that point of time,
A poem is born and lives through eternity.
I have a poem in the same Title.Your poem births from pain, but reaches to the world of joy.Please read my poem too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The birth of a poem strikes in God's own time. Beautifully woven unique poem.