the call of the ages,
the song of blood...
the prayer deep and silent,
the cross chosen and carried.
the hand that is miracle,
the eyes that search,
the spirit that is wind...
the prophecy of experience!
crying out for a distant God,
we found our own selves.
returning to the cave,
dancing shadows by the fire.
from darkness conceived,
molded by flesh into light.
the answer and the promise,
held captive by the heart...
the call of the ages,
the song of blood...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Riveting...a timeless work of art.