Here I stand in front of you-
like a wild shy creature,
afraid, yet-
wanting to know.
Your hands will hurt me,
destroy me,
tear me down
into nothingness-
and rebuild me,
making me whole.
Yet you know I am fragile,
delicate as a soap bubble
adrift in the winds.
Tender as a new leaf,
bent hard by storm winds
and yet.....
unbroken.
7-21-08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem