If I were a tiny sprout of grass in the Garden of Eden,
would God have noticed me and mentioned to the
Angels how He admired my smooth
stem and the emerald green of my blade?
Would God have created the rain for me
to grow and become a vast plain of grass
covering a whole valley and reaching to the
thighs of Jesus when He walked the earth?
Would I have moved in the wind and
sheltered some tiny animals and provided
sustenance for the bigger ones and then be
the fuel for the fire which would ultimately destroy me?
Is there sense to existence if the end is always death?
Or shal I be happy to be this little sprout of grass
and revel in the sun shining on my blade today
and bow down humbly to God's earth and pray?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem