Walking through the comforting forest,
she picked up a tiny yellow flower,
and, gazing deep into its heart,
she heard it whisper its secrets to her
with trust and quiver-confidence.
She listened in awe and admiration
and with quiet respect,
she laid it down, slow-carefully,
where she had found it,
pausing to dream
a little
before walking on,
wiser
and older.
(7 May 2011)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem