i
they were first
the baby's hands opening
slowly as fingers
ii
God has a fan that
He spreads open
to display
iii
then he closes it
all fingers as one folded
fan
iv
it is us
all truths kept back
to the Hands of God
so lovingly kept
back to its
proper place
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem