Restful, easy-going, just letting life begin and
happen every morning as the sun rises in the east.
Opening up the eyes of this poet as everything is
collected over nighttime hours, pulled from dreams
and laid out upon tables of my mind.
A feast for intellect to digest and hungrily eat
through rhythms giving coded messages provided by
the insolence of imagination as it confines nothing
within it's boundaries.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem