Not a day goes by,
Without it beginning...
Fresh with each day,
To brighten a night darkened sky.
Even at dawn,
The air to breathe is fresh.
To inhale and exhale.
As if to rejuvenate every cycle of breath.
Yet...
The new found less to do,
Seems more to take for granted.
Done to expect and accept without thought.
Just as opportunities to many come,
Within reach but left to believe...
If ignored,
Better ones will be delivered.
To decide from which to pick.
When one finds the time to do it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem