It wears no shoes,
Its stride is everywhere, bare and enduring,
It governs all lands but does not command them,
One that has no history,
Or a destination to reach
It is called the Tao.
If you attempt to count more than One,
Numbers lose their order,
If attributes or merits are named,
The quintessence is jumbled.
It does not wait, neither does it hurry
Nothing has to change its course,
Tao accepts things as they are.
This is not only the underlying current
But the whole ocean's mass,
It beholds all vessels, which return to it
Even though never have they parted.
When things flourish,
It nurtures and sustains them by the law of nature.
When things decline,
Tao remains constant and unchanged.
Those who are contend and serene about its effects,
Acknowledge Tao's wit,
Those who attempt to influence its pace
Find themselves asynchronous with life.
It has no vocal chords but it uses,
Every animated voice to speak its truth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
God is Tao ... thanks for sharing this interesting piece