Penetration Poem by Marieta Maglas

The mountain peak is penetrating the sky,
That lead sky, hidden behind the indigo clouds,
Tapping with its shade the rain shower,
Which beats the world of emaciated feelings.
Those feelings keep the encroached souls
In a mesh of life without hope
And in a framework of themselves.

The sky is penetrating the mountain
In its valley's green depth
To the place, where
The life's last illusion flows
In the middle of the chasm,
Where the running water galvanizes
The gold silence,
Weary wandering seemingly to nowhere,
Trying to resist its metamorphosis
In the time sight
And on the time ear.

The echoes of its sound
Are penetrating a new spring on its own,
When the absence of the old one means
not forgetfulness.
Unlocking the ubiquitous meanders,
Making the rain shine.
The cold gray stones
With their arms and their breasts
Are freaking the pick of their thoughts,
The strength of their iron veins
And their paradoxical conundrum
Like a voice, that is still alive,
Or like a mysterious touch.

Poem by Marieta Maglas

Variant

The mountain peak pierces the sky,
hidden behind indigo clouds.
Its shade touches the rain shower,
bringing relief from
the world of emaciated feelings.
These feelings trap encroached souls
in a cycle of hopelessness
and self-imposed limitations.

The sky is penetrating the mountain
in the valley's green depth
to the place where life's last illusion flows
in the middle of the chasm,
where the running water galvanized
the gold silence,
weary wandering seemingly to nowhere,
trying to resist its metamorphosis
in the time sight and ear.

When the old spring disappears,
it does not imply forgetfulness;
rather, the echoes of its sound are infiltrating
a new one on its own.
revealing the many meanders
and letting the rain sparkle.
The strength of their iron veins,
the cold gray stones
with their arms and breasts are
similar to a voice that is still alive
or an enigmatic touch.