This path I’ve trod
(writ long before my birth)
meanders and seems somewhat
aimless at times - even painful
and confusing -
as I often stumble,
straying lost and alone
(not really- you walked here, before)
while watching each
carefully placed footstep
I take, for fear I’ll not find
shelter before the coming
storm and so stray farther from
this path I’ve trod
(writ long before my birth)
straying farther and
farther away from who I
should be and so
I stop and get my bearings from
the sun as he rises,
marking where I’ve been and I
watch as the storm gathers
while at my feet a single, also
fallen, also preordained
leaf holds tenderly a
dewdrop just as I’ve been
held and carried along this path
Writ long before my birth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem