in the middle of this
busy world
as when these planets
are on the verge of
a collapse
or collision perhaps
mind you another soul
in the shape of a white dove
still takes time to
hop on the water and signs
its feathers on the rippling
waters
traveling on to land in the
desert
it flutters its wings low on
the red sands
to make its presence felt
no matter how quick
no matter how meaningless
could this be
the world is not watching
but the sands are stirred
and so are the waters.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The world is not watching but the world is giving us perception. Walking in desert you have gained many experiences. This poem is very amazingly penned.