You’ll find me-
Underneath
A mat of damp
Moss.
No indications,
Nor any dates.
All I ask is that
You remove your
Shoes, so that
You may experience
The comfort that I do.
Search for me-
Beneath the copper
Leaves in Autumn.
Forget your rake-
The wind will
Do the work,
All I ask is that
You lie back,
So you may sleep
With the serenity
That I do.
Ask a desert grain
Where I am, He’ll
Reply “Down! ”
I’m sure, but
You’re always
Searching for
Something more-
You’ll look upwards
And miss me completely,
See that I am beneath your soles!
And all I ask, is that you
Just listen-
And adsorb the easy melody
That I do.
I have become the music of the Earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem