it is the love
in what you do
that makes you love
even if what you
do rejects you
poetry for instance
you write with a suspicion
that someone out there
twists her lips
scratches his head
complaining that this is not the way how to do it
you may have known the devil
telling you to stop or jump or
just be one of them
in their devil-may-care attitude
you see no angel around
but your love of this work keeps you going
the passion to care
for words and arrange them to create
a picture
of your own beautiful world
a mirage of oasis for your hunger
an ice castle in your messy room
a theater where you are your own actor
and audience at the same time
who claps for you? just you
and they think you have gone out of your mind
but you are not
you feel the passion of sanity
and beauty
the urge to just be another scribbler
for nothing
this is it.
creativity, no one pushes you
no one pulls you
there is this spirit that keeps on telling
you
you are beautiful
you are divine
you are meant for something greater than yourself
you dream and that is enough reward
you do not make a name for this
beautiful ennui
sacred search
temple of the tongue
river of the mind
ivory thoughts
a fountain of feelings
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem