White rock on innocent sand
supported me
as I carefully walked
towards the rushed life.
I stood gazing,
pondering,
about how I would return
if I didn't make it to the other side.
I dove in,
stroking against the ice,
though it wasn't winter,
carefully trying to decide
how I would survive.
With exertion,
I made it to the island.
Isolated,
I watched my friends,
realizing through the clear water
the steps
I needed to take.
Against the current,
I slowly stepped and stumbled
to where I needed
to be.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem