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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Her smile

 Her smile's a red moon,

A clam in the desert,

An eggshell on the forest floor;

Rare

But making one stop in the path

To have a second look

Or third.

But one doesn’t know if the chicks escaped

Or were eaten by snakes, wolves, or the mother itself.

One doesn’t know if the clam is dead,

One doesn’t see the red moon

If it's behind a cloud.

Her smile's a red moon,

A clam in the desert,

An eggshell on the forest floor;

Rare and sweet like honey,

Yet becoming sweeter because the tree with the honeycomb

Is a challenge to climb.


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