The braided trinity of us
rests like a silky, ebony plait
across the breast of
Mother Earth.
We reside near the place
where She kisses Father Sky
making the horizon holy
with their consummation.
We are then,
now and the future;
mists in the mind
of a poet
attempting
to define time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem