Listen.
What do you hear?
You need not know everything.
You need not always be right.
Only hear the deep words of your heart,
soft, gentle and true.
Let it love
what it loves most,
the way it loves best.
The world will always,
always move on, and on,
away.
The heart shall not forget.
Depend upon this.
The voice within will still sing a song of love.
Hear the chickadees in the snow.
In blizzard or sun,
alone or together,
they sing the song of their heart.
They listen
to the soft self voice within.
Oh, how could we not
but do the same?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
hmmm... never thought of likening the voice of love to the sound of chickadees. but that maybe mainly because i've been a city person for most of my life. but i like the image. and your encouragement for us is for sure a wholesome and sanity-preserving one. thanks, smoky! -glen