Why do I feel lost in the presence
of the spring?
Isn't this where all life re-begins its
mystery, and the bird opens its wings?
Is not this the treasure for the traveler,
who finds nature's berries growing
for him to finally fill his stomach?
Why am I traveling towards death,
when nature is brought to life?
O, Traveler, why do I see the eagle fighting
the wind, when she is to fight its enemies?
Traveler, why is the stepmother
creating enmity between us, when she
was meant to fill the gaps of our dead mother?
O, you who hath traveled this earth,
tell me from your experience, is man
capable of giving birth?
Or will man leave his child behind,
and live his life full of pleasure and joy?
Traveler, will the fruit of the apple tree
be given to the neighbors for free,
or will they take payment for the nature
that does not ask for a fee?
Tell me, does the one you adore,
light up you soul,
or is it something that you wouldn't
withhold?
Traveler, I beg to know, is love real,
or is it better to have a plate with jewelry
and gold?
Answer me, O, Traveler. You walked on
this earth, and your eyes have been
witness to the most.
Guide me to wherever you find your heart
filled with filth and gold.
YOU ARE READING
You Who Knows Best
PoetryThis is a series of love poems written by me. "May we meet where the eye can find its rest, And where our hearts beat for each other, even outside of our breasts."
