To See The Flower Field,

A bright morning,
After a dark night.

The wildflower field,
Other side of the wall.

When silence is a loud voice,
And the voice is strangled.

We are waiting and,
Time is the waiter.

We are waiting for the spring,
In the end of the summer.

When patience is the only solution,
We are so impatient.

Now, is a moment in the past,
And now, is another moment.

We rise and we move,
To see the flower field.

The wall is broken, look!
Rise and move,
To see the flower field.

Farhad
Feb, 2007