Good end in the beginning from here to there
Everything comes in before showing
That meaning of the day and evening going
It starts to come up to show it’s somewhere
Like we in truth are sometimes dreams
Finding our inner self in daily tides
That in each corner of our thinking hides
For nothing's so much as it actually seems
You are making pictures dream clear and true
In the way that you feel it’s going to be
Sometimes it’s a reverie of dual new
With what in those brush strokes you really see
Is there a promised land behind dreams tall?
Or are there just limits for one and all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your employment of subtle mataphoric play, connects well to the philosophical tone of this work, Peter...Solid crafting... F j R 2009