it blossoms away like a flower
and us opening a new book
petal after petal, line by line
we live through them
each breath till the last
so well constructed
it takes a short
circuit or a lapse
of the mind to help
reality come forth
a recital is best without
ourselves instructing
each finger move
between them
death slips to and fro
until its final moment comes
out of the shell comes
a struggling chick
wonders where
the world it has
popped out from and into
a lapse of the mind
is timed for reality to set
life into tune
to and fro we slip
between the fingers
of the creator
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem