Tapping out rhythms to write to, riding through the
desert of my soul, capturing the essence of life as
I sit in the saddle.
Alone, in a world - a universe of my own - where I
can see the portraits of nature as my mind paints
them for me, in sequences of how they appear to me.
(9: 45 a.m. - 11/18/13)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem