Life is twisting out of control, taking turns hurriedly,
causing me to hold on for dear life.
What good would worrying do, none I'm afraid, because
that's life and it needs to continue until it ends, no
matter what happens along the way.
Seeing lights ahead every time I write another poem
keeps me going, if for no other reason than to see what
I've written.
Writing keeps me sane in an unsane world, it keeps my
toes in the sand and waves washing over me in my mind.
Always sitting on mountains, shores, forests, past
memories keep me focused on nature and it's life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem