'He does not need our sacrifices,
He asks for our selves.'
Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island
Your sacrifice is like
the breath
of the sparrow
in the roiling storm.
It is not needed
but pleasing in its
simplicity.
When you peel away
your small, feathered
soul, when
you stretch your thin
lungs to sing
your song of self-
immolation,
remember that
it is not necessary,
no, not at all,
but still pleasing in
your purity of
tone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem