In the desert, a dust storm circles around the dunes
By the lake, the frog plops into the water
On the wind, a feather floats down
Far from the wing it fell from.
The orange sky at dusk
Grows
In the small spaces between the rooftops.
A car door opens, a light in the hallway, atoms colliding everywhere:
In all of this
There is only this
The great there is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem