A golden disc has risen to an eye level,
The morning’s silence is broken
By a mother cat’s calling out to its kit.
A family of squirrels joins the awakening.
The high pitched calls invite the neighborhood finches,
Flame colored flowers of the Gulmohur
Are eager to join but watch in silence.
Maybe they know it’s pointless,
To search for someone,
In search of their own freedom.
So let’s sit back, drink some red wine
And enjoy Christmas 2009…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem