In my hand
hard and delicate
one tiny stone
older than truth, it's origin
more distant than
the past from the future -
It between my fingers
rolling over and over and over I
feel the answer
to our origin
and the question
of destiny -
In my eye
the tiny stone reflects
the hope
of billions of years
billions of people...
that it all
has a purpose
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Hope for the future with a single stone.