Freedom of intellect standing in the midst of music feeling
its motions tickling neurons and synapses within a creative
brain.
Finding reminders of all those yesterdays, listening to them
in memories that keep climbing higher with every note and its
measures of chords.
Enjoying and happily dancing to rhythms, never wanting them
to stop, looking upwards, taking time into the evening with
sounds of guitars playing into the beauty of a windy night
and participating in life's circle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem