Easy sounds of morning dripping into a pot, permeating
the entire house with it's scent of coffee.
Quiet renderings filling a mind with peaceful, heartfelt
thought of in backwoods of memories and images of yester-
year.
Sitting back easily in a recliner, all thoughts convert
to imagination and it's sublime joy.
Hovering constantly throughout the day, waiting for
chances to be written in works of art, a poem, a picture,
sustaining life from minute to minute - to outlast an
eternity from this day on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem