i am the match
...for the fire not lit,
......the cup that holds,
..no water!
...the wheel that turns
....while standing still,
the prayer lost in the mail.
..the leaf that clings
.....to the barelimbed tree,
the fallen tree where small things live.
....the one who digs
.......the unmarked graves,
who cleans the stalls by moonlight.
....the last cross
......on that faraway hill,
the one who pulls
.....the blanket o'er the body....
i am the song,
.....and the gentle hand,
i was not born to follow!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am blown away by the sheer brilliance of this poem. If you were a leader, my vote would be for you, sir. Every time I read your poetry I always learn something. I am the third cross on the far away hill, a beautiful line. Gives one hope for salvation, because even on that fateful day, the man on the cross was saved...