A beating in the air,
a soft light calls to me.
A journey dry as dust, brittle as bone,
a gathering of sundered pieces.
A mystery rushing up from within me,
summons me beneath my own.
A gentle stream where earth meets sky,
a soft moan escapes the moon.
A beating in the air,
a sundered soul restored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem