I feel the hand of God inside my hand
when I write said the old woman
I am blown away like a hat
I swear God's needy hand is inside every atom
waving at us hoping we'll wave back
Sometimes I feel the presence
of the goddess inside me said the dark red tulip
and sometimes I see her
waltzing in the world around me
skirts flying though everything looks still
It doesn't matter whether you call the thing
God or goddess those are only words
said the dog panting after a run through the park
and a sprint after a squirrel
theology is bunk but the springtime wind is real
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I embrace your poem! This is my view of the source of our creativity: there is a power greater than us, which inhabits us, which blends its being into ours. Hamlet said, THERE IS A DIVINITY THAT SHAPES OUR ENDS ROUGH HEW THOUGH WE TRY. Hamlet's thought is related to the notion of a wind of inspiration which blows through us but we must use that divine power to express our own hopes, desires, goals, values, et alia. Your poem is an individual achievement, it is true and beautiful in itself, but it is also a summons to the rest of us to write our poems imbued with the spiritual force you identify.