Vacancies never available in mind because it is always
filled with the thoughts and ideas of intellect.
Finding fascinating pictures being shown throughout the
day and night, never letting up being alone or on the
path of another person's journey.
Being self, writing into the universe every day, nothing
is beyond the sphere of my imagination.
Finishing designs and patterns of every day living,
sololy beginning the effervescent sights of every day
details.
Nothing amiss when hiding within intellect, taking the
beauty and complacency along into depths of ingenuity,
avowing the intellect born with and used fully all the
time.
So happy when interiorly being with self.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem