Along the seam of existence, we move
in designed gyrations, each tiny prayer
depicting languid entreaties to groove
harmonious over bliss and despair.
Such pointed dedication wanders lost
when overlooking the cosmic random
that promotes us tossed in stardust exhaust
by slingshot forces pulling in tandem
beyond simple gravity or wonder
these notions of eternally longing
to crack the heavens in blessed thunder
with force pure in principle belonging.
Without real trust in this divination
our fluid spin begins unraveling
until there is no sheer combination
left for lovers despite such traveling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, this blew me off my feet; swept my shoes away; mixed up all my metaphors due to unreal writing. More applause, for the maestro. (smile)