I pray for a tender light
That will reveal hidden realms of beauty.
I pray for a change
In the absurd, arbitrary order of things.
I pray for healing summer rain,
In an arid age where flowers of Truth cannot grow.
I pray for you in your last desperate hours:
Now that faith and conscience are dead... so much is left unsaid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem