Running away, hiding in canyons of imagination, winding
trails taking me to into the beauty of it's perfect
landscapes.
Suddenly, it rains and I become drenched in a holy storm of
heavenly proportions nothing like it ever happening like
this before.
A purity encompassing my entire being with a soulful hope,
leading me into deeper canyons where I will return again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem