Livening this spirit, awakening freedom only being created
interiorly, running, taking pathways into winter snows and
hailing snowflakes to come into mind.
Storms filling with anticipation as life goes on into depths
of intellect, creatively searching into the future, taking
everything as intellect pictures every thought into albums
of imagination.
No where else can processes of creative ideas find a place,
except here within every atom and particle of energy, sating
this mind with a beauty of tomorrow, singularly finding the
only ideas that will fit into puzzles of intellect.
Stressing rhythms being composed, as going along, writing
every note explicitly to articles of what needs to be
expressed and tabulated in formulas of another time.
Ageless centuries fall into line behind the music being
listened to, sandy shores taking steps slowly into the ocean
where this being will be left stranded on a silent island
oasis.
Loneliness never bothering this spirit as long as writing
and composing what it is, that needs to be explained in the
poetry of this mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the poetry of your mind! ! ! Keep it flowing~~~~~~