We are all trying to live noble lives.
We just don't know how.
I hate poems that tell of the poignancy....
The tragedy of life.
So many poetic souls who see irony,
And absurdity,
And stop there
To sing their clever, dismal song.
I say, If you see a tsunami coming
Yell 'Higher Ground! '
Or sing us into the next stage
....The subtle shore.......the astral plane.....
The oak lives mighty in the acorn!
(You can't see it......
...It is there!) .
Don't write a poem on acorns
Never mentioning the tree.
Nor poems of drifting bodies....
Though that's all your eyes
Can see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem