Steadily strumming, letting measures of time disappear
into a morning sun, leaving thoughts in chords to be
played through rhythms.
Wonder tantalizing ideas, racing about, daring me to
chase and place them in a poem, being mischievous and
childish.
Innocently pure, finding their places within my inner
child, whistling a tune of yesterday, while looking in-
to tomorrow's destiny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem