there is a place
of intense reflection
like the clear crystal waters
where images
mirror like
seem to surface
calling one to action
my father’s eyes
were such a place
one could see there
something of the present the past
the future not yet known
though ripples of desperation
stood out like stones
along the banks
lie the blue green pools of definition
filled with trepidation
unusually quiet and so still
he no longer willing
or able to express
his intention
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem