Dan Enache Poet Free verse

Their hands, only bones and skin

Their hands, only bones and skin,
reach towards the heavens, seeking an answer
that only the wind whispers, in the deep night,
where the moon dances with the shadows of the trees.
Their gentle eyes, merely light and longing,
shine like stars on a black velvet sky,
where dreams intertwine with reality
and time flows like a river of memories.
Parents do not leave, do not die,
they just transform into tears of stars,
guiding our steps through the labyrinth of life,
in a silent dance of light and darkness,
where every moment becomes eternity,
and every breath of wind carries an echo
of their wisdom, etched in our hearts.
And thus, in summer nights,
when the sky weeps falling stars,
we remember them, those who were,
those who are, and those who will be,
in a symphony of melancholy,
where each note carries the story of a life,
and every silence hides a truth.
Their hands, only bones and skin,
touch our souls with an unearthly gentleness,
offering us wings of thoughts and dreams,
in a universe where time has no boundaries,
and their love remains eternal,
like a light guiding us through the darkness,
on an endless journey,
in search of the meaning of life and eternity.

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