Turning inside, deftly locating interior places of
contemplation to reside with self.
Finding vacant spaces filled with noise, unable to
settle in to prayer.
Exterior problems arising and ballooning their ways
into every nook and cranny, pushing aside life's
interior forces, causing a deep restlessness that
perturbs all semblance of peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem