When love breaks through like soft spring rain
and softens the twigs of the heart
and the love-tree buds into opening blossoms
it’s like two hands that find each other,
like the intimacy of a flower and a bee
almost saprophytic
as the blossom opens up
to invite the bee for pollination
it’s a feeling that is light and also heavy
from expectations
like the morning that throws off
the dark blanket of the night
in the awakening dawn
when everything is reborn
and the light brings new hope
in the fertilization when time stands still
in the moment between the flower and the bee
and when the blossoms start to fall
like confetti in the wind
it sometimes leaves the soul bare,
when some moments are tearful
but are also a delight
just before the leaves appear
and the first fruit show
while love grows silently
and become much greater
than was expected
and fruit hangs heavy on the tree
in the time of rest
before they become red cheeked peaches
on the tree of the heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem