'For all God's gifts there must be in us a response of
thanksgiving and happiness and joy.'
Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation.
***
We must be grateful
when the old ones leave.
Forsaking the March sun,
they brush off tender, white blossoms.
Past the fleeing migrations,
they exhale their final, tainted breath.
Rising from earthen bones
in deep silence, new hymns intone
of thanksgiving and joy
and home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem