Sometimes,
what seemed
impossible
to change...
does...
and a miracle
blossoms...
and there is a lifting of
a heavy wooden yoke,
and
slowly
oh, so slowly,
the neck
eases into position
and the eyes
look upward
and fly
with the wings of a bird,
up, up, up,
cleaving the blue air
cleanly
and waves
of warmth
and light
open the mind
to possibilities
and the heart
to giving
and the spirit
to praying
and the body
to dancing
and, like Mozart-caresses on the ear,
the comforting sense of well-being
swells into
joy and happiness
that could
last forever.
(18 August 2011)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem