Will there be a time
When we can connect scattered
Fragments, and whispers
On the wind, of what might be?
Will there be a time
When the questions dissipate
Into life's blue streams?
Will there be a time
When we are one again with
The green rhythms
Of the flowers and the trees?
Will there be a time
When we are not separate
From the pure white light?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem