a hand has drawn this scene before us,
the hand of time, the hand of nature,
the hand of wind rain erosion;
the hand of God created
or the hand of change elements
in conflict erosion,
the hand of love beauty shapes
these scenes to the mind of artist;
painter poet musician,
we all gather here to view these scenes
to make our marks of meaning,
walk across this scene swiftly,
as swiftly as clouds darken the plain,
swiftly we dust cross charcoal landscape are gone;
Copyright © Terence George Craddock
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem