Like a reclusive raccoon
that returns with the moon.
Or the diligent silk worm
that hides in its cocoon.
I like to feel
life's tapestry
while others are away
no distractions around me.
In this dense forest of humans
I hardly find clear land
and whenever I do,
I make a shrine in sand.
For sacred is that place,
where people have not been
just nature untouched by vile hands
and birds still sing on trees
How hard it is today
for me to find my way
back to the silent sanctuary
leaving masses far away.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem