Wind blowing hurriedly through, causing ideas to flow
heavily, muddily, through the slime of yesterday.
Trying to sort out thoughts to place on paper, is very
frustrating.
Marching through it all, music filling my being,
suddenly all things fit as if written into a musical
score, a sonata, a classical rendition.
Soaring cheerfully, no longer needing to grope and pull
everything together, it all flows so beautifully from
this pen and fills this paper with many poems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW! WOW! This poem expresses exactly the thoughts that were just tumbling through my mind for the past twenty odd minutes. I took a break after responding to the poem I described as having gorgeous language (I forget the title) . I was wrestling with my inability tonight to write fluently in response to your wonderful poems. I can't seem to find the right vocabulary or the right tone. I've erased and started over three times! But this poem addresses that very crisis and offers a solution. To write prose with the flow of music. I'm putting some music of Bach played by Glenn Gould! I know what this poem means and what it does. It's a Rescue Poem!