Bruised knees on the hard wood
Ivory beads hanging from joined hands
Burning needs of the desperate, misled
The hand that feeds, they warn, must not be bitten again
But one who pleads for forgiveness is not always one who repents
The weight of guilt or the weight of God, by which do we feel most threatened?
And if the future is now, in the past present's tense
Why constantly suffer for what will never make sense?
God might be all powerful but, Mother Nature will forever be the entierty of our existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem