Rhapsodies falling into place, being created through
innate rhythms as they climb into my mind, vying for
a sphere to be attuned to.
Clasping every thought within an emotion or feeling
so that it will forever be remembered and recalled
when needed to write from one day in poetry.
Languidly lying there until being silently spoken of
in a poem of expression that is now being written.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
That is the process it undergoes, poem. You excellently expressed it