What universal design knows the arc of the scythe-like talon
That math of economy that shapes the honeycomb
That equation of calculated lift in the swallows scissored wings
That intrusion point of the rattlesnake's piercing instrument
What orchestra of eternity sifts the sands of creation
That valley of spring's rushing fury from winters fragile snowflake
That nest of a thousand realities beneath the swamp Cyprus tree
That imperceptible rhythm of the hibernating beast
What internal boundaries line the mist of memories and emotion
That tear that a cello's vibrating string within silence may elicit
That extension beyond self expressed upon stone palettes
That yearning and enlightened burning that transcends mere survival
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The paintings of the cave, thousands of years, do prove your poem's target, dear Edmund.