Thunder clamoring for my attention, but here I sit
writing, not hearing it's insistence outside my
little space of time.
Lightening striking, it's sheer piercing light,
forcing it's way onto the paper I'm writing on, yet
it has no effect whatsoever.
Not attuned to it's essence right now, continuing
to strike incessantly, not producing any results
that it's expecting from me.
Living in the essence of an innate creativity, not
being forced into anything that I don't want to see
or recognize.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lightening striking, it's sheer piercing light, ...this is really very interesting sharing. This deeply express thought that has come in mind in wonderful way. Living in the essence of an innate creativity brings definite satisfaction and nourishes life in lovable way. A thoughtful poem shared....10