Lie on your back on the arch of the sky, senses
free in the sun, and let your head dangle
over the edge of time. Offshore. Gradually
slide further until the upper reaches of your consciousness,
from the crippling knot of pain, are directly over death.
Hang back as far as possible. Once you've mastered
this exemptive position, you can also lean back
with your arms full of your desire. Star gardens
stretch into distance. And you shall throw your head
back forever. God's blinding voice dazzling in yours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well thought out and nicely penned with conviction. A poignant work of art. Thanks for sharing.