Another summer of my life...
  The old trees are going high,
    their trunks huge,
      the massive leaves
       are like thick dark-green whipped cream.


The lit lanterns are beautiful,
  especially their vibration
    in the water.
      They're scattered all around the park -
        lightning bugs.

Saying "When I was young"
  I'm mostly surprised.
Youth seems to be recent.
  And life passes by very quickly...
Although I'm not inclined 
  to say banalities right now.

Have I ever been?

The rhythm of this poem
  reminds me
of the one
  written 20 years ago... -

 (20 years ago? Really?)

where "the crows are croking"* -
  funnily I have to put myself in quotation marks -


  when I was fourty
and at the peak of my creativity.
    
    (Who was fourty?)


A lot of friends, my age,
    have passed away,
especially men,
  but women too. 
 

It's so strange.
  Whose turn is it now?
Mine? Or not yet?


The Evil Forces 
   have tested me up and down.
Now I can see their work.


However, they can't do anything
   if you don't accept their will.


It's good to be in control.
  It's also good
    not to be ravengeful in your mind
     forgetting bad things,
       forgiving evil doers...


It's great
  to be used by the Upper Invisible Forces
   for arts and poetry...

People call it a talented person,
  but I don't do anything, really -
     ideas come by themselves...
God knows where from -
  I don't...


And yet I was chosen...


The Blissful Forces have been with me too!
  An unspeakable moment of life...

I don't want to be famous,
  I just want to feel this...


Life of the flesh has an end
  leading to Death.


Life of the Spirit is endless!
  The Prize is Eternal Life!


My pleasure lies in the Spirit...


Adherants of flesh can't understand it.
  Peace be with them...


And we, 
   trekkers of the Paths of the Gorgeous,
     seekers of the Invisible,
      we shall go our way...



Now most things are in the past,
  just in the mind...
What is left?


Whatever I've done
  does not seem to matter,
except my sins,
  my experience small.


I don't mean the sordid mundane experience, -
  I've never thought much of it -
   but the wanderings of the soul. 


Death is a great experience, 
  I believe.
    I'm really curious...


Life of the soul is much longer
  than this tiny stitch/strech on Earth.
Yet it has to be worthy.


Now that so little is left
  you have to be very careful
   about the slightest movement of your heart -
being aware of Who you're with.


Mosquitoes are biting
  the way they did
when I was a small girl.


  The trees haven't changed either.




Aug. 7, 2020

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*"The crows are croking" - from my poem: http://lit.lib.ru/s/slobodkina_o/howtodescribedoc.shtml