Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

12 poems

Will God take a seed on the journey to grow rice or wheat? Or will he all the same take a tiny animal or faultless bird into his pocket? Will he renew the nature of this earth in a new unseen one? Will he stand up a Human Being as an award, like a statuette on a table? But all this most often is His hand— as a young boy or, perhaps, an old man— resting on a coarse folio in leather binding, where life has no weight or feeling, or even sense, where thin paper on another sheet separates dried grass, leaves and flowers, beauty as memory, like mysterious doors, a game of scents and lost thoughts.

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