Weather blowing through my imagination, awakening it's precise
times of quality intwined with realistic processes of intellect.
Always chastising false premises of reality's insistent changes
towards melodies.
Forming complacent motives on bands of sunlight, flowing into
interior caverns of thought.
Blinding my mind from outward distractions from others, intent
on disrupting life rhythms with jostling justification,
rendered from self-serving people outside my aura of being.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem