God beckoning, using nature to grab my attention.
Branches waving their fingers in a soft, gentle breeze,
touching my soul, tantalizingly fragrant.
Bushes waving their flower blossom heads in all directions,
stretching subconsciously, imagination, on a hot almost
summer day.
Little flowers being shaken close to the ground, hoping
for a reprieve from the heat as shadows form around their
rooted feet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem