Hearing whispers calling from somewhere beyond this horizon,
listening intently, hearing their saddened and sorrowful tones
coming through the music.
Lonely pilgrims floating in and out of this dimension, alone,
some of them now forgotten, yet all reaching out, wanting to
be heard and loved once again.
Being cold, ignored by most, yet somehow they still come through
to me in musical rhythms, and I continue to listen to them and
their words come into my poetry through coded rhythms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem