poetry in progress
one soul cuts through the universe
come light, come darkness,
the father would fend like a tiger
for its other half and young cubs
in the cave of existence
its roar could be heard in the forest
at dawn and the dead of night
it is a roar of love - for its young
it is a roar of fear - for its young
it is a roar of the uncertainty of existence
it is a roar of the courage to roar
that there will always be light stealing
through the foliage each and every day
for the little snail to see as it moves
its pad over a patch of leaves,
for the mice inching its way through
the floor of sprawling roots
from the four feet to the footless
slithering over hills and mountains
the forest exhibits the toughness of existence
with each tree standing tall - roots,
trunks, and canopies come shine or rain - -
and throws a challenge to life in the sky,
on the ground, under the ground
the lives below its green green crown
that whine, that bark, that meow, that neigh,
that howl, that croak, that moo, that hiss,
that oint, that shriek, that shrill...
the forest is a vast orchestra
that trumpets a existence
through thick and thin
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem