I am a candle burning steady
though the wax melts unevenly
longing for a hand that steadies the flame
without being asked
My roots run deep
yet the soil shifts beneath me
and I wonder if the wind knows I lean
without ever bending
I do not call out to the stars,
but my eyes linger on them a little too long
hoping they understand the words
I will never say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem