In each commodity
hides calamity
a pinnacle to serve and or please
a glow or extract effortlessly asleep
dreaming, dwelling, questioning
differences with explosive qualities
each an energetic atom
alone in a nicely made garden
honestly evocative and at the same time
in the wisest word within needful works
arising, and costing nothing…
Such wisdom, of sensually exciting spirituality
ornately presented and calling of such opulence
is neither neutral or of any declaration
caressing the edges of an ingested dare
flowing through two familiar strangers
spun to exact precision
in amazing, incredible forms…
Risen points painting both the ancient world
and this crude rude one
while still harvesting
the beauty of a single cloud
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem