Touching this mind, a rhythm makes me smile, feeling so
good, right in particles of my brain that give pleasure.
Watching with joy as this pen flows across paper, writing
verse after verse in long hand, wonder and ideas combining
to make future literature.
Coming into hallways of tomorrow, always becoming who I am
to be eventually, sensing something amazing about to happen
at every turn in the road of life.
Slipping down mountainsides just to coincide with an idea
being reiterated in a poem.
So perfectly poetical and one with nature, standing back
alone, enjoying what comes into this mind without any effort
whatsoever.
Never blindly walking into anything, always fully aware of
all that is happening.
People talking, children yelling, all of it sounding just
beyond me as I write silently alone, on and on into the day
and night without ending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem