In this world of hate and fear;
All dry eyes and not one tear.
As the Garden of Fragrant Rose;
Becomes stench to one's nose.
World lusting only for money;
Flower to flower; Takes honey;
Watching lone humming bird;
My thoughts turn to the Word.
Creator of all things I did find;
Walking in my garden be kind;
In good as in bad; Me you see;
There in all things you find me.
From here; Let your walk start;
To everything be as I Am; Part;
Keeping both eyes wide open;
To see true Beauty I'm hoping.
By taking a much slower walk;
Enjoying as with me you talk;
As you walk past each flower;
You will gain Spiritual Power.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem