This world is spinning with us all on it's surface, living
our lives without thinking or realizing it, except every
once in a while.
Noticing the moon in the middle of the morning, sitting
and waiting for recognition to come about.
Meanwhile posing for poets, so we may write about it's
stature in a poem for another time to be read.
Finding places throughout this brain to make it come out
in vibrant auras and meanings.
Touching this spinning world as we eventually come to our
endings on earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem