Magic comes in waves to those willing
To sacrafice reality for bits of bliss.
Wearing wonder around your neck like a crucifix,
Or is it a hangmans noose?
Our deeds barely a bumper sticker
To a lost faith in the face of hypocracy.
God waits for us, bathing us clean when we allow it
Though our will drains the pools.
Waves cannot break on dessert sands,
But he allows it, allows our want and will,
NOT KNOTS, we tie those and then we wonder
Where has the magic gone?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem