The new winter poems I write
Are cloaked in frost and moonlight;
Not the glitter and tinsel
Of vain shadow festivals.
They speak of ancient fable:
Of Love born in a stable;
Of the Kingdom of Mercy;
Transcending frayed history;
Of a star in deepest night;
Of a different kind of light;
Radiating Innocence
And peculiar stillness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very nice well penned love it
Thanks so much Leah...much appreciated!