Resounding echoes filter through life's
stresses, beckoning this life to rise
and meet the day.
Reaching out like a saxophone on Broadway,
tranquilly besetting the pace of beginning
austerity.
Forging documented serenity onto blocks of
clay, to be reused on some other day in the
future.
Talented focus on edges of eternal hope,
cause apostolic frequency of hope and faith
without regrettable reason or purpose.
All of this on the head of a pin in earth's
atmosphere.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Without hope we cry Without hope we die Honorable in hope!