I think there’s a way
that green grass can grow
though constantly tramped on
without being seen.
I think there’s a way
that flowers can bloom
though coldness surrounds her
despite the bright day.
I think there’s a way
that life will erupt
though encased in cement
from just a small seed.
I think there’s a way....but I haven’t yet found it.
Written today April 6,2008
by Helen C. Capan
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I think we all should strive to find it, Helen. A realgood poem Ron