compel the mind
to inspect
the possibility of infinite drifting
vast space a thimble
of no note
to a soul so imbued with
time ripped to shreds
yet
ordinary earth
calls
and calls
no eternity
outside of breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your works make me feel my mind is being read. As poetry should. Another work of art. Thank you.