An elderly lady
Cooks salads and borsch.
Tiny wrinkles in her face
Are like caves
In which the Sun doesn't shine.
Wisdom is born in the darkness,
A mighty shape of dreams
And songs.
There is a song for each season,
For each game there is a reason,
And people keep dancing
To the beat of constellations.
An endless invocation
Of spirits
That play with no limits -
Yet there are candid places
In which witches burn candles
And whisper
For our glory to stay eternal.
They are still learning
From the wisdom of the nature,
So deep and comprehensive.
Independence 24 hours. 3. Wisdom
© Copyright: Марина Чиянова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122082302331
Свидетельство о публикации №122082302331
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