Cracking into the evening, slices of daylight, fading in disappearing moments of reality.
Locating sheets of forgotten compositions, lying in
disarray with piles of yesterday's memories.
Melodies broken, saturated in pools of tears, left over
from horizons, penetrating my visions today.
Remembering all of the reminders given, in glances of
images and being held in mirrors.
Reflecting themselves in harmonies of a harmonica being
played once upon a time in a past I have already lived through.
Having come the distance thus far, I settle in for the
long haul, as I continue following my purpose while
swallowing sufferings with the instrumentation of my
soul's mysterious rhythms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this -mysterious rhythms.