Supple are the thoughts
on the shores of mind,
rippling on the soul's lake,
caressing the threshold of emotions.
Sweet like the smell of pine trees,
sour like the last shred of sweetness left;
hopeful, joyful, throbbing with life,
yet dead like a breathless pebble beneath a rock.
Tiny wishes, simple joys-
earnestly seeking an armful of them;
A sparrow chirps through the ears' tunnels
awakening a dream and lulling reality to sleep.
Safe and secret it is hard to keep
the thoughts that fly around like aimless arrows;
Swift like a voice getting lost in the distance,
sparkling like a smile bridging two forlorn tears;
Oceans can cry and death can dance
stones can sing and
the world can burst into a million universes!!!
