'This'...
Does not come as quick.
As picking up a pen.
To think of something that begins.
'This' is not how this 'process'
In the mind enters in!
'This'...
Some say is a gift.
Many with it,
Receive.
It is much more than collecting words,
And connecting then to sentences to breathe.
Becoming relieved...
While an ego is pleased.
'This'...
Comes as if,
Nothing else matters in the world.
A consciousness cleared is fed.
And the creator of 'this' is led.
And like all of those who read 'it'...
It amazes the writer too!
The outcome does not start as it begins.
And an explanation of 'this'...
May be attempted,
But that is hard to do!
'This'...
Does not come as quick,
As preparing a sandwich...
With mustard and mayo on fingers to lick!
'This' somehow knows when it is ready...
For the comments and judgements,
Of those who are critics!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I really like this piece, I hope you dont mind but it brought a smile to my face, A small 'yes your right' smile.