listless
amid oceans
of swirling sands
am I found
neighbour to none
but lizards and desert beetles
adrift
on no island marooned
nor choired
by the bark and yowl
of sea riggings scream
an ancient seadog
afloat
on a waterless waste
lone, cold the moon
daybreak fierce
as a furnace
door suddenly opened
at dark
the sky meadows above
stars a million
float slowly round
allowing a sense of being
to this husk of a man
on the margin
of heavens and earth
on the cusp of death
yet fine, fearless
as sand hurricanes
sweep the horizon clean
he contemplates
the daily round
he smiles as the ‘ALL’ is revealed
it has been - all along -
his swaddling cloth of gold
cloth gilt cloth lit
with its own light
he evaporates
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem