This is a poem about a spirituality and one's soul.


Guests


Running along the forest paths,
I went up to the top
and saw the golden light
in just born leaves,
but I didn't find a boundary.

Thinking it should be so,
I kissed a wet tree
on the soft soil,
and the tree kissed me.

The pendulum of the truth calmed
and said that your beauty
wasn't a drop of the sun
to be spilt
on my skin.

Do you see our words
dancing and saying:
There are no boundaries.
In our bodies -
we are only guests.




Poetry by Dejan
Read 498 times
Written on 2006-08-22 at 16:06

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