It’s not a playground where
you run around shouting
without noticing whether
there’s a listener
or a playgroup where
there’s paper, paste, scissors,
all over the place,
thoughts pasted on thoughts,
without noticing anyone else
no, it’s some specific calling,
saying, see that far-off other?
we’re related; see us as together,
your surprise may tell you
about that vastness –
maybe, awe, wonder, beauty,
wisdom, truth…goodness…
so treat me, metaphor,
as if god’s priest:
respectfully, sparingly, carefully;
as you would look at twins,
each sleeping, but holding hands;
love requires that
What a beautiful poem. I loved the imagery and use of metaphors.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is excellent Michael - human, humble and attentive - reminds of that poem that suggests everything will come to an end, when we have compared every thing to everything else.