Ice crystals
falling, rising, twisting on the air
a spiraling mass, on the wind
falling covering the earth.
The warmth of the sun
melting the crystals
droplets, runing tumbling down
into the earth.
Warm moist, the seed unfolds
pushes its way upward
breaking through into the light
to live a season long.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the cusp of each season Roy, May your seed of poetic verse, germinate year upon year. A couple of typos in the second stanza 'melt' and 'crystals'. 9 from growing! Tai