Tucked neatly and safely into a corner of inner space,
I sit and write, completing my mind's journey into patterns
of thought and wakeful ideas.
Fried to a cinder inside, so fragile, unable to be touched
or held, afraid I will disintegrate into nothingness.
Held by no earthly or personal boundaries, I travel and bump
into limits set by narrow-minded people, causing me to recoil
from their cold, calculating touch.
Preferring warmth of limitless horizons at my fingertips,
allowing inner knowledge, wisdom and freedom to grow.
A perfection which can never be harnessed or harassed into
submission.
Always outside the reach of human grasp, held accountable
only to God in His infinite wisdom, and allowed the spirit of
freedom not to be disturbed from without.
Answering only to God's inner whispering in a separate level
of dimensions, not included in earthly schemes of people and
their myriad hosts of all-important selfish matters.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem