Feeling the beat of a tambourine as it rises, tickles
and swelters with rhythm in periodic symbols of music's
depths.
Nothing blinding my mind from the truth of a perfect
pitch, an inner dimension where life always seems to
be adhered to quietly.
Stances of nature blending with humanity, bringing the
tenure of age into every picture and portrait shown to
me on photographic screens within.
Facing many people at once, not knowing they are there
because my mind is hiding within intellect, picturing
the future of destiny when arriving in the glory of the
Divine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem