My Lost Poems

I often go to the wild nature, My Missing poems went to hide in the jungle. The swift wind sighs through the leaves and asks me: “Tell me, dear poet, what do you see? What are you looking for?” I hug the wind and plead, “Can you find my lost words to write love? To draw dreams?” The wind dances in the bushes and comes back: “Here, in the rustling whispers of leaves, I’ve found them, My dear poet, your misplaced verses of love and grace. If anyone could summon them from the depths of the wild, It would be you, the conjurer of dreams and emotions.” I hold tight to my poem and run back to my home, As if a mother finds her lost child. …