Once again life is cleansed
As rooftops are washed
In the last few beams
Of the dying light.
Another day exits
Like a procession
Ascending through gold, then orange
Then purple.....& beyond
Into the waiting sanctuary
Overhead
Wide & pure.
And, we too, can
Sink into forest & city
Mountain & ocean
And wait to be swallowed by stars
Where rooftop meets sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem