Inch by inch I will move,
But move I will, nonetheless,
And not settle into
An algal crown.
Heave out my tent,
Nestled between “IF`s” and “BUT`S”
And pitch it a little higher,
Exposed to the rain and heat.
Rise with the Sun
And toil through the day.
Stop wearing the colour of night,
Trying to escape God`s gaze.
Invite Mr. Jones
Over to a humble dinner,
Take him by the hand
And settle it with a hug.
Live in grace
And not dream in waste
Or hark back
To a golden yesterday.
Look into the mirror
And see the man inside.
Cajole and condone,
For who I am.
Leap from the edge,
Fly or fall
And love you each day
A little more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem