legend knows the way
twelve angels attended
the ladder was a dream
a metaphor and promise
the poets know the gift
a single race to spread
to populate the world
never to be abandoned
there on Mount Moriah
would be their temple
and a trust from above
guarding the stairway
now the straight path
often lost and empty
waits rays of sunlight
shining on Jacob's rest
in a sleeping meadow
lies a dreaming child
as the earth awakes
a lavender reminder
so may that child arise
prosper in gifts and grow
perhaps showing the way
earth still is a paradise
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem