I am convinced that human intuition when
listened to equals up to what is true and coming.
And it does strike me as
humorous when minds merely state
lofty expectations for the world at large.
What moment is ever boring?
Such expectations and true dynamism are
heading in different directions anyway,
moving opposed to one another.
And Arizona's dear palm trees do hold
the upper hand currently, along with many
trees grabbing the earth hard.
Their glee is enjoyed, glee teaming
with true dynamism.
Every tree gives proof of
purpose, they often whisper it,
I often listen for it, and seek it.
Thats why I cling close to them
during our purposed exchange,
the circulation of life beloved and engaged.
Trees preach the dissapproval of
chaos ruling over purposed order.
Yes, my soul love them so.
Let them outlive me, they always
deserve to and commit no offenses.
They're so silent largely,
though they speak aloud such conviction.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem