@ All images are copyright of Rosa Cobos 2008 . Rights reserved
How can I can I gather flowers with my hands..
when rejection has turned them cold..
and just one is waving to the light..
as a metaphor of a passion lost
I did not pretend to fill the hole.,.
that a black star..
had left in heaven..
with not vision of entering into..
the beaming source of Love.
But I did not want to cry for this..
and felt my emotions as a murmuring river.
without taking care of the depth..
I float in an instant of blissful lucidity.
A huge bubble of warm air..
the last one..
suspending my heart afloating..
while the dress dances with the lotusses
and then.. I know..
I shall go…
Go to the eternal Life of Mother Earth..
A course of water..
the only place where Loves and Hates..
© Copyright Rosa Cobos 2008 . All rights reserved