In mourning I begin to write
Will this be a poem
Or grocery list?
I don't know
I just know the sky demands
I speak. My heart lifts up high.
What is there guides my words
If the thrush lands on the bush
I sing
If the wolf crouches
I howl. If the deer pants
I become thursty.
Give....be careful to give
Everything its due.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem, sometimes we have to write to get it out.