Silently watching with closed eyes those memories of
past times lying now upon lost horizons, forgotten
until times of remembering.
Forlorn, tattered, straying down aisles of shadows.
Thoughtfully knowing of their existence while
plodding forward into heavens beyond thought.
Stretching into beautiful spaces of nature as all of
being follows itself spiritually into realms of the
unknown, wanting answers and turns of conversation.
Lonely, wandering along pathways fragrantly filled
with roses and violets, touching senses of yesterday
without regret.
Silently watching with closed eyes, those memories of
past times, coming alive in minds of thought this
moment.
Willowing about in spaces of nature, growing like
trees and flowers, beauty abounding in sacred
closeness, no regrets of what has transpired tonight.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem