Shattering like ice being hammered with an ice pick,
just watching pieces break apart into puzzle pieces
of nature.
Wanting to put them back together before they melt
and disappear, gently touching the wonder of an icy
cold energy and what used to be an icicle.
Designs and patterns being created in values of life
and humanity, always searching for the beauty that
once was, before being broken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem