Mind being raised into upper levels of intuition and innate
knowledge, focusing on them intently while writing and
listening to music and it's rhythms.
Finding interiorly, conclusions that keep coming into being,
able somehow to explain the unexplainable, a very curious
affair thatcannot be accounted for.
It continues incessantly to happen, through the writing of
poetry, not vocally out loud, only interiorly in the total
silence of this mind and intellect.
A mystery held within this mere poet's mind and intellect,
perhaps one day either I or someone else will figure out
how it's being done innately.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem