>≫≫≫≫Traveling On Other Side Of A Wonder Land Poem by Abdul Wahab
>≫≫≫≫Traveling On Other Side Of A Wonder Land
I took a ride on the other side
of a wide Ocean and wilder skies
People spoke in different language
Only two of us are of our mother tongue
That night I really traveled, too, far
And never thought of retracing back
Until I missed my identity
Out of my jacket pocket.
I did not ask myself nor did I mind
With excitement I kept walking
On the beautiful oceanic waves
Losing my return track.
Then the waves went really high
We rushed into a building
Octagon in shape and very clean
Ten feet wide thirteen feet long
Then the dykes of confusion broke
And I understood why we were there
So far in an island totally stranger
Among the unknowns we, two, together
I could not believe there, too,
Around us the air could be crisp
And the sky could be wide and blue
Falling upon us with a sound drip, drip
The musical drops of rain from a divine cloud.
Yet I feared something could go wrong
And might have to face unexpected worse
What, if nobody was impressed or phased by
Then I felt a strong jerk followed by an earthquake.
The dream was over and I silently woke up
Since then I have been searching my identity and wallet.
On the rough soil of hard world and harsh reality
After silently walking off the oceanic waves
Jeff Cannon; ; ; in one world or another, so easily we lose ourselves, one through wonder, the other through harshness, awe and read how they dance with us, twirls us around their enchanted fingers, until dizzy we fall a tiny, almost incinerated from the gravity of fierce journeys, the ones that lift us from our bodies, the known home of our birth, lost in traffic of daylight cities, yet somehow always found we get back to the house we know safe, surrounded by the people we know, the familiar objects as values as our pants, our wallet, the precious being sleeping next us, extending her arm to make sure we have not go any, no where without her - thanks Abdul Wahab for this external and interior deeply descriptive, magical poem of wild experience, fearful exploits and like heroes return with gifts, even simple ones, like gratitude and care for the life we have!
Jeff Cannon; in one world or another, so easily we lose ourselves, one through wonder, the other through harshness, awe and read how they dance with us, twirls us around their enchanted fingers, until dizzy we fall a tiny,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 10:55:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Gertrude Aba - -Wonderful craft. The highest form of knowledge is self knowledge. We all need to search for our true identity. Lol and our wallets too. I enjoyed this.