Have you noticed
how often pain, sadness and discomfort
are ensconced in beauty?
like how cold it is this rain-gray morning
even under my seven layers of blanket
and yet, the little light there is
glows like Rembrandt’s brushstrokes
on the dawn side
of dark, wet tree trunks and branches
in my forest garden
and holds my gaze in leaf-edged patches of pale-grey sky
and, rain-soft, it subtly illuminates
leaves darkened by the clouded sky
and flickers
between gentle, leafy flutterings
of reverberating life.
Are pain, sadness and discomfort
the essential core of beauty?
Or is beauty hidden in them,
poised for discovery?
Or are they all intertwined
in swirls of the kaleidoscope
of reality?
(26 July 2004)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem