With a folded prayer heard in silence
Your bare soles touch the soul of the soil
Along the leafless path leading to
Another sky, where the unchanging paleness
Of every sunset since the last embrace
Nudges you to remember that this is
An ancient country, wide-hipped and unphotographed
With a young and throbbing language of her own
Lonely and longing to be brought to light.
Poignant and succinct.
Thank you very much, Louis.
the state of knowing of one’s richness yet being unheeded by the rest………the discovery of which leading to its climax!
Thank you,dear Anoucheka.