these may just be words
letters that one need not read carefully
as they are not instructions
or manuals for daily living
not something edible to eat
not a ball to play with on late afternoons
when you have nothing to do
not a bar of beauty soap for your face
not a lotion for your skin
not a piece of cake or a fried potato
for your breakfast table
neither is it a cup of hot coffee
they are not necessities of life
yet somehow
the daily poems of our lives
make us live
a day more,
an hour more of promise
a moment of more tolerance
another year of patience with ourselves
a night of nice sleep
under the stars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem