They might be flowers
of mercy
or small emblems of
the sun's
inevitable rise;
clusters of grey-green spears,
miraculously piercing last year's
fallen foliage
without disturbing
a thing.
Earth's first birth is
whiteness - one
simple dependence
from
this little
stalk -
where hope rises
with modesty,
surprise... springs!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you are a master at imagery....very visual, yet simple. It's a gift....keep using it!