Hour now getting late, yet I'm still going, washing clothes
at the Laundromat after having a totally full day of both
activity and errands.
Feeling tired interiorly, writing anyway, feeling an energy
coming into being, relieving the stress of the day, touching
me with a peaceful demeanor, quieting my soul with serenity.
Looking within, seeing interior contemplation beckoning my
mind, awaiting the beauty of inner anticipation and burning
desires of a passionate purpose through destiny.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem