There is faith
as long as there are seeds.
One can still hope
as long as faithful pollinators
bend their knees to flowers.
And just as long as seeds ripen
within their chambered carpels,
we can turn our faces to meet the sun
as each day it climbs the east ridge of Mt. Baldy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Is this the famous Zen Mt Baldy in New Mexico? in any case a lovely poem filled hope and joy