Squinting eyes open the valve
of time's cycle as a morning sun
brightens into life
a drop of one foot, then another
upon the floor, like a threat of thunder
announcing from beyond,
alerted to a new day -
we clothe ourselves in spruce
branches which protect
all creatures who seek sustenance
and when day fills with flavour
we take pride in the bliss
of one more sunshine journey.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem