akin to quiet rain
entering broken
earth poetry
permeates our lifes
like the air we breathe
we do not see but it
is there
flowing from the well
of the poet's being
shaking our minds
like turbulent sheets
in a march wind
conversely a field
of pleasure and joy
to the open heart
with its grains of peace
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem