Moments waiting in times to be thought of or written about,
clamoring for attention in the silence of life, becoming
slowly awakened by steps and processes of identity.
Carefully weighing hastily made decisions of yesterday's
mazes, crawling across time and space, alighting in the
grooves deep enough to rest and build trust a little within.
Attempting to float and patch the floors with watered down
cement, falling to broken knees, feeling spent, apart from
life in just a moment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem