Cold morning’s touch
Tickled by the sun rays
Unsaid words that stay
In the layers of days

Trickling from the cheeks
They’re falling down
The flower pierced by the light
Blooming in the stillness
Growing in the avalanche

The highest heights
The lowest lows
To cosign to the life

The contrasts of reasons
The colors of seasons
That beauty unspoken
Deep in the heart

Trickling from the cheeks
They’re falling down
The eyes blinded by the sun
Full of devotion
In the golden streaks

They’re still falling down
The flower’s glowing in the light
Trickling stream down the cheeks
And the glass is full of bliss

Alexandra Puškárová

About Alexandra Puškárová

'Every poem has a story to tell'

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