I let the mountains cry rain,
through the eyes of the sky.
the earth wash its face so the,
plants can wake up.
I too cry…

I tell a story to a flower,
the flower sings to the thorn
as the thorn cries from pain.
the river flows like tears
on the earth’s face.

A face known to me since I remember,
tells me that faces deceive,
I look into the mirror and smile
yes! it is true
I look nothing like me.

Categories: Poetry

Tags: National Poetry Month, npm, npm18, npm2018