Steady beating rhythms enticing my being constantly,
giving an energy that continues to penetrate intellect
with it's sublime and profound effects.
Wandering, traveling through many dimensions, living
fully in each of them, writing feelings and experiences
of each into poetry.
Finding each experience extraordinary and beyond belief,
totally into being present in each of them alone, a
solitary figure looking out at each of their horizons.
Pen in hand, blank pages of a journal always ready to
be written upon, nature within taking me on excursions
throughout reality and imagination.
All without anyone ever knowing anything about what I
do, even those watching me write cannot fathom depths
that I've traveled into intellect with.
Intrepid, solid feelings and emotions taking me into
volumes of poetry needed to be written by this mere
poet alone on a solitary journey through a lonely life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem