Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Our story


Beyond the maple mountains,
beyond the salmon rivers,
we found each other.
But how did Tagore know?
That was our question.

That is how the hills turned purple,
maybe only for the night,
maybe only for the moon,
then behind the Earth, in hiding
like a dark hole in summer.

There our rabbits ran,
and the grass was green,
on treetops made of maple syrup.

And honeybees sang to the river,
flowing into clouds,
above steel bridges.
Their hooves were cast iron,
and dug into the riverbed.
Around them, the fish swam,
with emerald ribbons.

You only smile.
But then, don't you believe those squirrels,
with tails like scarves?
And don't you believe our night on the meadow,
looking at the twinkling of eyes
in the night sky?

2 comments:

  1. you seem to observe the nature a lot..

    ReplyDelete
  2. But how did Tagore know?
    That was our question.

    So true.

    ReplyDelete