We arise from blooms.
Into soil we roil.
Some seat on they eye.
Your eye ever awake.
Never a batting.
The eye of the eternal.
Spiritual chemistry, nay should I say alchemy?
Magic of times, black, white and grey.
Blooms erupt, rainbows leaping across time.
From our dust blooms the lotus.
The times of all times.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem