what did we have
last night?
nothing
what do we have
this morning
nothing
we can just be honest
about these nothingness
talk about it and feast about it
spread the wonders of these realities
the paradox comes like a bird missing its own
cage
wanting to peck upon the seeds on the master's hand
and then the cup fills itself
water begins to move in the river
frozen shoulders become alive
eyes wake up
hands begin to caress other hands
the real feast begins
the doors of heaven suddenly open.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem