It's cold, the snow.
Wet and pure,
Like God's quilt for the earth.
Bright, clear with pride.
Alive on a brilliant December dawn,
Dogwoods dripping snow
With puppies lapping up
The icy puddles.
Feelings of Freedom
The new and strange in the world,
Differences,
Mine and yours,
To create a new awareness.
Just to sit a moment,
With nature resurrected,
Creates a grand uniqueness
Where all I see,
Is beauty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem