I pen my thoughts and become a sage
taking tentative steps in rhythm
I garden with words and set the stage
making each paragraph and line mine.
And as dawns light touches the page.
I am struck by what has evolved.
What once was hard and cultivated-
and looked forced and unresolved.
Now looks effortless and organic.
And where once was darkness
now there is only a botanic-
garden of flowering goblets.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem