Looking from inner windows, realizing life is
racing past and not caring, sacrificing daily
increments of sanity to sit and write.
Forever searching endless pathways of the mind,
locating words and new ways to line them into
expressions of feelings and ideas.
A thrill of actually feeling new thoughts creates
within, an obsession to keep on writing.
Feelings felt through words is inspiring to inner
sanctums of a lively mind.
Touching upon meanings filled with inner peace,
writing fulfills the need in me to create
continually.
With pen in hand, a whole new world opens up before
me written in words on once blank paper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem