When I woke up, I was in the worst mood,
but then I called you
and we talked about trivial things –
philosophising about the world,
about religion,
about life and death.
Something suddenly changed and I didn’t feel cranky anymore.
When I was a little child, I called you old,
because back then, I was too young to understand,
you’re not old but wise.
Your spirit has been shaped by all those stories you told.
And the day I’ll say,
I can’t learn from you anymore,
will be the day,
I will visit your grave and pray.
You tell me about the exotic flora and fauna on your land.
To be honest, I’ve never been a big plant lover,
but you sound so delighted when you’re talking
about all the raspberries in your Garden of Eden
that it would be selfish to hold on to this sadness any longer.
It wouldn’t make sense to hold on to anything bad,
when you send me pictures of heroic Georgian Kings
and when I can see the beauty in little things.
©Elena Natroshvili
IG: 16minutepoetry
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