I was reticent at first to come
To the fabled house of healing.
Yet it was necessary given
The awkwardness of my circumstances.
I felt like a feather blown along
By the cruel, bitter winds of Fate.
I was weary from hunger & habit.
Yet here I was warmly received.
Slowly I retreated from the poetry
And the prose & the radical politics:
My joy & my cross; my passion & my dread
Slowly I recovered from the fever;
As I oscillated wildly,
Between boredom & joy.
Gradually I received blessings
From those whom this cruel world
Seems to scorn & marginalise.
Gradually, I became aware
Of a deeper consciousness
That moves between myself and others;
From which jewelled wisdom gently unfolds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem