Falling in love with you
was like falling asleep
Slowly at first, then all at once
and waking into a dream
There is a lush grove,
resounding with the
dulcet songs of cuckoos
Warm sunlight sieves
through the canopy of trees
Walking on a bed of flowers
of myriad bright hues
I follow the eerie
and enchanting music
coming from the direction
of a cascading spring
But soon it turns murky
I trip on protruding branches
Broken twigs and thorns
pierce my barefoot soles
as I turn to look back,
the trail is gone
Now, the question is—
If there were a trail,
would I go back?
Would I want to wake up
from this dream,
so surreal that it seems southafrica-ed.com?
