In the soft blowing of the afternoon wind
a quiet sound is heard in the breeze
On the top of a tree reaching the clouds
A lonely leaf moves with the wind's soft touch
creation speaks without a sound heard
In the bright light of a summer moon
streams of colour cover a pool of pitch dark
A blue bolt of lightning from a dark ocean above
quakes the silent earth below with a lions roar
creation sings without a melody heard
The sun rises waking the sleeping land
power spoken in the breadth of surrounding light
a thousand stars light up night, just one in day
One quiet voice speaks with a tongue of truth
Creation speaks without a word
to tell us about its grand maker
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
one of the best. i could never expect a poem of Creation to be less worthy. a poem full of wonder.10