I grew up in this town, my poetry was born between the hill and the river, it took its voice from the rain, and like the timber, it steeped itself in the forests. -Pablo Neruda

Kamis, 07 April 2011

Snow Dance

Tararap...tararap...taptap...
We also knew this snow, like the sweet vanilla on coffee...
And its fell like mother sprinkle your cake with sweet sugar...
Then, we're laughing at that time...sounds like we don't have any problem each other,
Your hands was lifted and felt the taste of snow...
It's your first time to touch and feel the snow, and like you've said before that...
"I always dream about the snow...i feel calm when its rain with my arms open like this."



After you lift your arms, you're wheeling and turn on your smile in your face.
Simple like that, and i always feel the love flied around us...
You said, "Tararap...tararap...taptap...", and that sounds was heard like we shall be dance...

And you're dancing with eyes closed, just leave me alone with nothing...
I can't dance...my leg was nothing and i just sat in the wheelchair.
But I've imagined your step to dance in the rain of snow.
First, you're wheeling with your eye's closed.
Second step, you down your body into the snow-bed.
Third and last, you make your body-print as if you're the angel in my eyes...

Please, let me know that you're dancing with the snow...a thing that you can't find in Jakarta and you always dream about its...

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