I do no see endings
Only transitions of energy
So when my body retires
I will still surround you in
The sacred cedar forests
I will still kiss you
In the first spring rains
With passion and delight
And I will still stroke your
Hair in the soft autumn breezes
My hand will be on yours
And my lips upon your brow
Not even time stands as
An ill tempered chaperone
I promise to whisper to you
Love notes and secrets
Each noon and each twiligh
Until our hands touch again
By RavenDreamer
Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.
Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind
as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood---
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
By Pablo Neruda