You walk around it,
you reach out to touch it,
your hand moves right through it,
how you,
think to it,
in though of it,
would ask of it..it is simple,
It does not know of it.
It only swims in it..
It is the truth..of it..
It loves with it...
It sleeps at your feet in it..
It is your shoe, on it in care..
You know it will run aground to the world in it,
while you sleep in it, get into trouble in it.
Now you smile in it,
it smiles inside you, as it swells
in waves of rushing blush.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a bottle of rum an a yo ho ho the scrawwwqk of the macaw....floats around it on you only perchs while in the world it searchs a swifter ride on the other side ten an cheers