There is nothing gilded about my mind-
No golden genius hiding in hushed hemispheres-
No neurons nor dendrites, no short cut to play-
As you listen, the mystery is really all here...
My mind has been in a perpetual frozen state-
My head feels like a boulder in the hills-
A labyrinth leads to its doorway-
A maze of wonder when open -running over the fill! ! !
Filled to the brim melted my head like an ocean-
Where even angels oft' dread to tread-
Even the placid deer feeding at the country creek-
Turn away from the marbles running out of my head! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem