Grandma speaks to me secretly, quietly.
She tells me to be patient, sentient.
Grandma shows me places and faces.
She makes me stare out at sea and see.
Grandma whispers about her disdain for the pain.
She affirms her loving caring in my bearing.
Grandma then points out to nature, in my nature.
She comes with the gift of light, against the dark night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem