A poem on travelling
And only the horizon knows
what you love besides words
and besides sounds: colors.
And all the horizon is the rainbow.
Makes you owe and want to bow
in fascination to Nature’s creation.
Up you flew with this aqueous view.
Out the tiny window, portions in gas,
portions in the shape of dessert sand.
And showering all pink ruby light reflects.
And the joy of meeting people never ends.
Sucria, my unexpected exotic friends.
Random talkative people on the row.
Oh, how much I love to meet them all!
Never know when friendship can unfold,
it doesn’t matter where you come from.
A sea of lights, a sea of lives.
Birds’ beautiful nocturnal view.
Yellow, orange, white, and red.
Are they happy or sad? Can’t tell.
And so somehow, to your eyes
the most touching rainbow
is crowning a clouded moon.
Birds get what I felt the first time
I ever boarded a small local plane.
And every time I feel the same
when I board transatlantic ones.
It’s exciting, it’s random, it’s beautiful.
So turn it into something meaningful.
