The light from the tree
throws gold on my
dark wall.
Night lurks, but
thin windows
keep the wind at bay
as day flows faithfully
to day.
So we wait
for the exuberant sun
to spill reckless warmth
over the grateful Earth.
Life is a prize,
a gift of great value
gold given by the eastern king
to the newborn
child.
So receive it!
Your faith
has saved you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem