Sometimes I miss the glory of such an embrace.
I become beguiled with fictitious grace.
By my own will I try to get along
With orbiting earth and gesturing song.
I alone am not able
to sit so still and walk so stable.
So, I look to you for guiding light
to help me endure this endless fight
with Nature and extremities.
I dare to move,
lest I
fall to my knees
in this hole, in this tomb
Forsaken creation, commanding moon
I cannot turn,
For all I need
Is to be captured,
Yet to be freed
To where You are in Heaven's light.
I need escape from nature's night
to where doting doves fly to Your feet
Blessed birds on airs beat,
'Father.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem