the parts in relation to the whole are hard to muster
i get lost somehow
confused on this seemingly unrelated part to another part
like seeing the legs of this millipede
when it would have been easier to think of it
as a worm,
i remember being lost in a forest of trees
wild growing trees where i can no longer figure out the shape
of a single leaf
because it is too dark
and damp
too many little things, too many details, that hinder us
from grasping the wholeness of
things
and people and daily events,
i get tired of all these, parts and parts and parts and some more
miniatures of parts, a letter to the word,
speaking in cut phrases
how can i ever understand this and that?
show me the whole
be whole to me as i am whole to you
touch the parts later
relate it always to me
this love is whole, it was never meant to be chopped
like some garlic and onions
this love is an apple that you see and pick from the tree
take it first
in its appleness, then start to bite
every part is sweet, every part is me,
this love
this me, this whole world is me
it must be first to you
then love becomes us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem