THE trees that surround
this house
are teeming with birds
the early morning
chorale
the winds from the
sea
are violins
without visible
performers
the hush of the leaves
are the usual arias
some stones on the
feet of trees
are audiences in their
respectable
silence
the garden is the stage
of all these
showings
since no one is in the house
i sit on a rock
the best bench there is
contemplating on some
peaceful thoughts
and i feel like someone
who is
an honored recipient of
all these graces
i conclude: God is Here.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem