Writing from an inner repertoire preserved throughout
this life, never touched by anyone but myself.
Issues and thoughts not being disturbed by anyone else
knowing that all is intact, neatly organized, compact.
Readily available for intellect to access any of it that
is needed.
Thinking along lines of imaginative intellect, having
measures of time collecting everything in a timely manner.
Never leaving a single detail by the wayside, all beauty
and singularity of my being to be gathered and written
into poetry for the world to read.
There in the future I will be known in pages of literature,
an anomaly, a mystery of this earthly life, just waiting
to be discovered and learned.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem