Nature stirs ever so lightly, bringing scant
attention to the upcoming storm.
Cooling air, gentle breeze, clouds come rolling,
quietly in.
Looking across the desert lands, seeking out the
places which need water and making sure that's
where it goes.
Nature, ever lovely, stirs so lightly, walks
around on tip toe, through each day, finding ways
to make God's presence known.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Storm is rather a device of nature to erase the inequality... very well expressed.