It’s
A fleck of salt
On a grain of sand
Afloat in the multi-dimensions
Of time
It’s 50 rides
Around the sun,
They seem without reason
Or rhyme
Yet it’s
Also been so hugely intense
So incredibly monumental,
That somehow, somewhere,
It only makes sense,
That there must be a source elemental
Some prime cause, that’s root, fundamental
To my existence,
For my subsistence,
No matter my resistance
Something must have
Planned it,
my life upon this planet,
And it just can’t stop now,
now can it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice Write!