A word itself is the world,
A word itself is the sky,
A word has its importance
On its own quality
In different places,
A word is the creator
Of its own sky,
The sky is the creator of the air,
To which we are to remember,
To which we are to touch.
A word is a feeling,
Feeling is our energy
And we get it on this earth
Wherein we are living.
A word is the earth
On which we walk,
A word is an appearance,
That appears as a sight
Before us every time,
We utter the word.
A word reflects our goodness,
A word is our guide,
Our philosopher.
We are here to rear a word.
And in a word we watch a sun,
We watch a moon, and all the directions,
In a word we get everything
External and internal.
But word is not final,
We have to cross the word
Only through our senses
To stay in a universe.
And all the universes are
In a word, and the word is
There in our body.
A word is not a mere word,
A word itself is our body.
It is our own love,
That can makes us en-live.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem