They might be flowers
of mercy
or small emblems of
the sun's
 
inevitable rise; 
clusters of grey-green spears, 
miraculously piercing last year's
 
fallen foliage
without disturbing
a thing.
 
Earth's first birth is 
whiteness - one 
simple dependence
from 
this little 
stalk - 
where hope rises 
with modesty, 
surprise... springs!                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                     
                
you are a master at imagery....very visual, yet simple. It's a gift....keep using it!