When the painter sees glitter
that's all she can paint
And the hills are alive
with the colors inside.
When the painter sees darkness
that's all she can paint
And the hills crash to earth
without the universe making a sound.
When the writer sees laughter
that's all she can write
the chaos all around her
swallowing her up
When the writer sees living
that's all she can write
And the question unfolds
to reveal a cold hard truth
but sometimes living is what the world
needs to hear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem