When my eyes look on the beauty
of the early morning sky,
see a bluer kind of hue
than any painter
is able to mix on a pallet,
filled with a kind of purity,
an unspoken serenity
then I know that Your presence
falls like the drops of dew
glistening on flower cups, the leaves
and carpeting grass,
that every day is new
as a gift to all of mankind
filled with the promises
that our choices can turn it into
and the hollyhocks opened
to pristine pink glory, swaying
on their long stems
in the soft breeze,
the geraniums in scintillating colours
flowering in abundance,
even the internodes of roses
stringing with their petals,
every flower bud
is an expression of Your endless love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem