White sage smolders
in red abalone shell
and the fragrant smoke
bows to the ONE.
Outside in a mild breeze
I lounge before the sun, my eyes
ride a hummingbird
zooming in wild abandon.
I should be writing
stories in my mind
begging to be told,
but this tiny creature
has me captive on its wings.
Who will know I was here
and this was taking place,
for shadows on the ground
have neither tongues nor eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem