Living in an honorable place, watching inner
pictures move and become a life history to
ponder while continuing to fulfill it as best
we can.
Watching for pitfalls and curves along the way,
avoiding some, yet hurtling head-long into others.
Waylaid by those dear to us, we hold our memory's
hands as we glide musically into the next world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem