On the way to a different world, between the worlds,
Mist-ery world masterly erasing roads and meadows,
majestic cities, if only for a while…
A tree-trio, a world in a world, singing its own
Unhurried song of roots, trunks, branches (which you can’t ear-hear),
Accompanied by an extravagant but gentle melody of birds
celebrating, or so it seemed.
An emerald, lime, silent forest-world devoid of civilization
Save for an occasional cyclist, a perfect scene
For mushrooms of all colours and sizes, giggling, playing hide-and-seek…
At a green patch beside the crossroads – a clover, proud,
Receiving: drizzle, sending: its rich magenta light,
In full glory, the last one, standing its ground…
If I ask a question in my language – confused, slow,
Maybe stubborn, insensitive, fantastically dumb,
If you could bear to give an answer infused with irony and patience,
Driven by comprehension, consciousness can expand…
As you pass the old friend willow, saying gooddays, it sighs,
sways in response, touches your sleeve, hair, cheek.
It makes you stop, hand on your heart, and smile
and breathe deep, and live –
Long – and prosper.
Everything is possible.
Anna Krasko 2022