Travels Poem by Soran M. H
Travels
O traveler poet
Read your poem with the last autumn thunderstorm
to the sleepless long night
For no one will listen to the wound of poetry any more
With the arrival of the last snowflake of winter
Make a snowman for the time
And with its melting say
Goodbye, cruel era
*
When you left home, you closed the doors quietly
So that the canaries would not wake
You did not know they woke up before you
In a delicate twilight, heard in your slightest step
the rhythm of a sudden journey
of far paths and remote slopes
*
you pass by the Well before it dries up, without waving goodbye
while it washes the face of the dawn
And without knowing how long the journey will last
you left behind the unhealed wounds
You cannot know that the time will not wait for your return
they looked away then knelt down, without saying goodbye
*
Here is a butterfly for a shaky soul that alights on your lip and will not fly
How could you have known, when the hot tears of separation were shed on the cold, silent waves?
The light dips into the agitated sea and you will never see it again
this is the howling of the soul
*
O traveler poet
for which continent will you leave?
all lands stand on hard rocks
Everywhere time stops at the same hour
The butterfly smiles no more
The dove is not considered a messenger of peace
Neither is the rose a symbol for lovers
But life is filled with
the sewing of spider webs
and the caws of crows from the sky
And the artificial sheen of plastic flowers,
Travel back inside yourself
This is the best spot
To explore tranquility
quietly
Brilliant! Absolutely outstanding Soran! A pure joy of joyous purity. From its engaging and embracing start and to journey in one's mind, then to finish in perfect peace. You have a gift Soran, that is clearly and beautifully presented to all who read this mesmerizing poem and your magnificent poetry.10++ but it's not about points. Take care Soran and many thanks again.
Dear Shaun Cronick the finest poet, all these meaningful words will encourage me to write better, also telling me how deep you are looking into the poem whenever you read them... brilliant...every success
Soran your magnificent poem richly deserves another viewing. One of the few I have read where the old adage... 'The stuff that dreams are made of.' is so true. Thank you good Soran for this wondrous poem.
Nature in Flying colours Before the traveller Wonderful poem Thanks Soran
Eternally a master class on how to write and appreciate great flowing poetry. Thank you good Soran, again five more than worthy and deserved stars. Take care my friend and thank you.
An amazing poem- -Your are seeking for a new world, leaving the old wounds, but you see the hard rocks where ever your steps take and you ultimately find peace in your inner self where a new world begins with poetry.
This poem is so very remarkable, Soran! ! ! There is such angst, yearning on one part for the poet to stay, and on the other part, to explore different terrain, both poetic-wise and earth-wise, your pen traveled many roads in this. More top marks for this poem than this site could ever give out! ! ! Millions of starry-eyed 10s for this work of art heard in your slightest step the rhythm of a sudden journey of far paths and remote slopes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 8:38:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A masterpiece you have here, Soran! A masterpiece!
Afgarsto Dear poet Kostas, your lovely comment is the best certificate I have ever had. Regards