When The Rain Drops Fall

When the rain drops splashes on the window

they don't apologise

and no one feels the need to translate them.

When the mist falls on the narrow roads

hides the trees' neighbourhood

there is no question on the role of the light.

An owl screams from afar.

I fantasise he's sending messages

especially for me.

On how I once walked on a log at the heart of a sea

on mountains and hills I flew above like I was

a cloud.

On a raging silence like a desert

on a private space of mine, alone

where there's nothing

but everything.

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©  Shelly Sharon 2020

Three Easy Stepping Stones
To Come Back Home To Yourself