I close my eyes yet not listening to summer’s breeze
Around me there is silence. Reality slowly starts to freeze.
Lying in the grass under a cherry blossom tree:
While under the graceful winds old dreams are all I see.
I hear the stories the clouds won’t ever share,
I feel the sun like a touch gently taking care,
I remember long forgotten days with my longing heart,
I look back to when these memories have been the start.
Now, every time – I can’t help it – I look back,
Because I long to those sweetest steps of my track.
The clouds even can’t hide other people’s stories.
But still I won’t listen. Those aren’t my memories.
A part of other people’s own life. Not my life.
My life could be cut into pieces with a rusty knife
And every piece I would carefully pick up – just to hold.
Because I love every piece… No matter which picture is told.
Once again I have been inspired by „The Daily Post“.
I loved this assignment – I absolutely did.
I have worked on this poem all day long while lying in the grass watching the ideas in my head coming and passing by…