In silence, every song that’s sung
is as a wheatgrain in the hand;
known in wonder, love and awe;
its essence more than human sound;
in stillness, every joyful dance
is summed as if in perfect prayer;
though every muscle yearns to praise,
unmoving; more than mind in air;
silence sings and stillness dances
in the freedom of the heart;
self, content to be the watcher;
loving each and every part.
In silence, every song that’s sung the lyrics as the larynx rests before the singing has begun we wonder as it manifests.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely gem to crown the heart mike.