Lost In Translation.
"There’s bound to be a ghost at the back of your closet
No matter where you live
There’ll always be a few things, maybe several things
That you’re going to find really difficult to forgive
There’s going to come a day when you feel better
You’ll rise up free and easy on that day
And float from branch to branch, lighter than the air.”
The jasmine is blooming it’s perfume scenting the air.
The trees are gaining little colonies
Nests tucked away carefully full of bright blue eggs
Like little gems
tiny little heartbeats inside, counting the minutes til they break free
At night the moths perch on windows drawn to the light within
I put my hand to the glass wishing I could feel their gentle wings
I lay in bed, watching origami fish swimming imaginary oceans on the mobile above me
As I drift off to adventure with little Nemo in slumberland.