What a desperate act a poem is!
Words can’t help but convolute
You are not any thing, but a liquid mosaic of all things
in greater and lesser sums kaleidoscopic purity
You are Sunrise Serenade and ripe silence
cupcake frosting, Tubish Vat and a wintering flock of tree sparrows
You are Dancing and gibberish Scrabble;
you are also blackmail and viral rashes, but it doesn’t show, really.
And while today you may be sponge painted raindrops
tomorrow you may well be snap dragon lightning rods
Any attempt at defining you denies the inheritance of possibility
not to mention exhaust my vagabond vocabulary
Thinking of you is like God sneaking in the backdoor
with grocery bags laden with springtime sundries
for I love all things knowing that in them is you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem