We are all trying to live noble lives. 
We just don't know how. 
I hate poems that tell of the poignancy.... 
The tragedy of life. 
So many poetic souls who see irony, 
And absurdity, 
And stop there 
To sing their clever, dismal song. 
I say, If you see a tsunami coming 
Yell 'Higher Ground! ' 
Or sing us into the next stage 
....The subtle shore.......the astral plane..... 
The oak lives mighty in the acorn! 
(You can't see it...... 
...It is there!) . 
Don't write a poem on acorns 
Never mentioning the tree. 
Nor poems of drifting bodies.... 
Though that's all your eyes 
Can see.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    