Watching the dark gray skies and waving palms,
The flowers drooping their heads
And sheltering under the heavy laden leaves.
All the while the pond filling
With the much welcomed rain.
The frogs are doing their dance
And making a lot of noise.
All this is music to the senses,
An opening of the mind
To let the new show itself.
It happens time and time again
And each time it washes out the old
And is completely fresh and new.
Now is the only time there is.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An excellent poem, and so very true. Yesterday is history, in the past, and tomorrow may never be, the only moment is now. Tango.