Sitting quietly, getting in touch with hidden feelings
and emotions, keeping them secreted in depths of a
creative intellect.
Using them when feelings intensify within a heart,
climbing heights into this mind and intellect, having
enough of everything in a brain.
In order to write about anything real or imagined,
loving how depths of consciousness and subconscious-
ness are unending, and always receptive to thoughts.
Concepts and ideas, managing to watch an array of
inventions come visible while thinking in and through
intellect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem