I would like to write a poem
my mind said.
I have no inspiration
my heart whispered.
Shut up!
my soul shouted.

Birds are singing
the blue Songs of Spring
Skies are bigger
and bigger
Skies are closer
and closer.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

Je voudrais écrire un poème
dit mon esprit.
Je n’ai pas d’inspiration
soupira mon cœur.
Silence !
cria mon âme.

Voici que les oiseaux chantent
les chants bleus du Printemps
les cieux
sont de plus en plus grands
les cieux
sont de plus en plus proches.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

Go where ferns shiver with delight
and walk among the trees
until you hear their verdant breath.

Trees can read your mind.
Trees all share their dreams.
Choose the One who chooses you.

Encircle your tree with your arms,
then gently press your cheek
to its rough trunk.

Your heart beats.
So does the heartwood.
Stop questioning!

All is understood.

© Frédéric Georges Martin

~

illustration: Gothic Forest (Eyvind Earle, 1980)