The stretch in the evening, clock forward
and the earlier light opened enjoy,
as brighter things and
strolling in the park the flowers
the play and the extra time and joy
inbuilt to unroll and enhance promote
the incipient dwell.
so seasons then i think reflect the
isness and thingness and the latent
dream that reveals the manifest and
explains
Resurrection in the heart of things?
so true, nature is never spent.
dont mind the big bang, the multiverse,
present ongoing is tense.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem