Elderly musicians, coaxing melodies of yesterday from their
abodes of disarray.
Tempting dancers to arise and take to flight across the
floor in an array of beauty and grace.
Tenturing blossoms into designs of antagonistic words and
notes of music.
Declaring intricate systems of tomorrow, out of hiding,
allowing insight to portray living organisms and particles
of interior behaviors so they may be written in riddles of
rhyme.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem