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Ritual
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [Miriam Cihodariu ]

2006-01-28  |     | 



I’m leaving
To squeeze my mourning
- the essence is overflowing in the fruit –
on the old ground,
and heavy and black,
the land of promise,
and my sap shall blossom Something.
Does it still matter what?
It’s not a sacrifice
- I shall regenerate myself –
it is just a gift
like a smile
to someone old.
My blood
sinks in the earth,
I feel it for it’s me,
and I go deep
to the most hidden
corners and organs
of Earth,
now I have seen everything.
And now I can say
that I have never known
how big the world is
and how big God is.

20th of May 2003

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