Columns above my head
Touch the cloud number nine,
Expect me to be silent,
Hope for the light of the divine.
When, a state-in-the art,
The shower covers new depths and heights,
I know too much,
I do too little,
I keep indulging into the light
Tonight.
What is done to us
By gravitation,
By cold smiles and
Jubilant hearts,
What is done by us
Seems to be intact,
While the nature is down-and-out.
© Maryna Tchianova
On Brazilian emergency weather situation.
With respect, compassion and hope for the best resolution of a temporary housing crisis.
Columns
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121073103630
Свидетельство о публикации №121073103630
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