The voice that governs the hierarchy
Of the heavens is also the language
That is whispered into my head.
It commands the sun to own the day;
The silvery moon and stars, the night.
Tide is summoned to ebb and flow.
Words spoken to the changing seasons,
Spinning in a designed-cycle,
Trigger the flying Mayas in Manila as well.
That which permits the phenomena
Of Madagascar Rainbowfishes breeding
Allows the same miracle in a mother's womb.
Authoritative order is inside me and everywhere.
Blue skies or gray clouds, grace showers upon me
As I marry the core of cores, the cause of causes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Don't know why this poem got such a low vote cast, maybe it's unusual language structures; but I find it refreshing. Vive la difference!