There is still for us. A sea
of ideas to talk through.
Nevertheless we are drifting apart
bound in differing directions.
This constitutes not. Our chosen choice
rather our separate Dharma destinies.
Which must impact us. On ever to
strive upon diverse wind swept shores.
Though beacon stands. Steadfast stalwart
shining unseen beneath horizon curative.
This means not. There is no lasting light
burning between our bonded horizons.
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
http: //www.poemhunter.com/terence-george-craddock/
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem