The thrill of a blank sheet of paper?
Still get it.
The joy of inky black marks that say 'Here be words',
Still feel breathing down neck, wanting to exist,
Full of latent energy and impossible power.
Create deep ravines of awesome beauty
Between the lines, and endless vistas
of human experience
stretch taught against the horizon.
Tales with an urgency of revealed secrets,
and new truths uncovered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem