You taught me the poem, the muse,
Your language jumps into the valley of my heart
Runs over my veins like a waterfall:
Your words are bees that buzz
Over the paper of flowers,
Your sentences are streams
that meander in the forests without a comma or a full stop –
leaves that autumn gathered year after year
are reams of paper on which you write
you give your heart for a mere drop of sweat
and
fill our hands with lots of grain ,
you cover your body with oceans
and our nudity with civilizations
you swallow seeds and spit flowers
that is why
that rain drop in the cloud
frets for a place in your heart -