How the softly lapping ocean waves..
with patient chisels.. lick and lave..
newly sculpting seacarved caves
turning convex to concave.
Massive rocks
found in her shallows
she has turned
to rookery hallows.
She has made room
near the coral reef
for the God-sculpted
scallops.
Inland the falls roar
the falls thunder
faster breaking rocks asunder
as Spirit too can make
new holes in hearts of stone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem