My strength and inspiration grow from a
restful heart
Naturally and compassionately it grows
Upon awakening I'm bestowed words that
stir my mind and illuminate my Muse
And by evening the patter fades into
annihilation
Asking myself, should I regard their
existence as consequential, or not
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To be or not to be, a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, great poem good question thanks for sharing!