Music dancing and playing with mind, intellect, soul and spirit, having such a great time in open fields of roses and deserts filled with cacti.
Such opposites it seems at first glance, but upon taking a closer look they can both stick or poke you unexpectedly because each has their own defense system.
One with thorns, the other with needles protecting them-selves from man, yet bullets rip them both apart with complete perplexity.
Racing across each one, thinking and finding the essence of each in order to place them silently into sequences of time and place.
Hoping to live for hundreds of years, just being what they were meant to be on earth, a complacent and creative way to contemplate the heavens above silently through life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem