to just keep on writing
is like
to just keep on moving on and living
and enjoying life to the utmost with whatever is there
i no longer want to know what i can write
the love of it, or the taking of it for granted is just to keep on writing
even for no reason at all, no direction, no rules, no preaching,
nothing even philosophical, just this loafing, this floating,
this sailing on a boat on the water under the skies
beneath me a clear water with red and blue and green corals
fish swimming, eels, and urchins and dolphins and then i have
to finally decide
to leave this boat for a while and take my plunge into the
depths to see what beauty lies there and i do not stop
writing inside my mind, for
thoughts are letters, and imagination is another world
where the mind as pen still keeps on scribbling.
i like the salt
that clings to my tongue.
and i remember: i am the salt
of this earth.
freely in the water flowing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem